Brown Brown brown A majestic salute Of this **** on bone Into my mouth Irreverent despise This effigious moment Of makes my surmise Of this meat from this plate Surety tu sate It's Satan's will In deep do I swill Of all the kingdom's fawn Fauna's adorn Adorn ornate From the midth of my plate Into my bellies belie Belittle my sweet tooth From tooth suit sooth The feel of my carnivorous desire And it's encroach To ****** from the animal kingdom A bane or benign male Or of femality A skinned creature or scaled Once skinned then scaled To the nth of my teeth From it's evolutionary course To my 'mmms' whence eat "I farm therefore I am" My requite My requiem It's internment within my duodenum If we as homosapien We're a little lower Of the evolutionary ladder A little closer To the whipchuk and adder Perhaps this incongruity Would seem of insurmount That we would not take from the platter Of that skitter skatter Of paws and of hoof Of feather and of scale For it not our right To interrupt the plight Of species cultural agare And of universal development Of ******* disposition And it's extant Perhaps we'd be more likely To drop a tear Than a mensonge long of langue A salivating spittle Like the whistle and the sizzle Of that press upon the plate Of heated black iron The steam and the vapour Testament to the savour To the saviour of the meal As any connoisseur can tell you Unless they alien to meat The saviour of the meal That muscular tender form That reared from the twinkle To the wink The seed met it's drink The phoetus To the expressed ******* delight This formling's fledgling plight As it's eyes burn to new light Of its heart and marrow and sinew All fodder to our ensue Of it's marriage to this world Now married to our plate Its existence to sate Our sensory intuition And if questioned The lesser the tuition Of salt and fat to the sate Of blood and metal to the taste Of bone and cartilage the waste Unless hungry enough to chew And **** it's marrow clean And this meal As if adieou Of all memory Of that beast's sense Of this reality And this brown brown brown The king and capital of plate And our position upon the evolutionary ladder A little less seemingly madder Of this culture of interrupting culture For the satisfaction of our tongue And of this insanity Most seemingly insane Shall affirm of our humane As our cultural attest To the other species detest That the brown brown brown Be a salute From fork to mute Of our common humanity For whose going to stop us The birds or the bees And this brown brown brown Be the flag of the humanity we wear From infamy of mind To the pork and the pear Laid bare Upon our shirt or lapel Surely if we are to grapple With ideas of genocide's justification It's after picking the brown fibre Of a pig's won't to pork Upon your new shirt With a clean silver fork Or after dessert
This is a subtle variation of the original poem named 'Veganism'