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Sad Case Mar 2017
A dog is wild like a wolf at dawn.
While the cat is wild like a lion in day.
A dog rules the night and the moon.
The cat empowers the sun.

Dogs are fearless.
Cats are fierce.
If a dog were to fight a cat.
Like a gun to a bear.

Who would have won?
A dog is merely a cat.
As a cat is merely a dog.
a covey small tan and brown feathered avian sprites
in brittle grass on desiccated hills hidden in plain sight
perching still as death will my close presence them excite
do they sense the ending that will mark their panicked fright?
I'll move they'll billow forth in the vagaries of flight
fluttering trajectory will intersect my sights
wild beauty convoluted billowing feathers ignite
ending in a tumbling stumbling failure of their flight
their camouflage plumage flecked with stains of crimson light
do they regret never seeing their progeny's delight?
do they feel a longing for more than is their right?
they will provide a meal for my family tonight
The hunter’s bullet lodges in my side
like the pin bones of salmon wedged
in the back of my throat.

My life balances on the border
between my favorite comfort foods,
and the blade of the taxidermist.

You would make me into a trophy,
gutted and cured to become an ornament,
in your seasonal hunting cabin.

Raw honeycomb, Caribou marrow,
salmon roe stuck to my tongue,
psalms of my home made flesh,

call me back into my survival
instincts for my sleeping children.

She who outruns deer & devours
strong bucks with antlers the size of sequoias
could not outrun the champion sprinter,

American made bullets.

But when you realize your rumpus
disturbed wild things, there is no time to reload.
You brought a potluck into the den
of a slumbering mother with cubs.

My teeth are agonizingly real
And my jaws are in your belly,
rooting for the lost rib of Adam.
Tamera Pierce Mar 2017
I wonder if it feels good,
seeing my face
As you break a fragment of my soul off.
Like the way you love
a warm blanket in the cold woods.
Or the oh too satisfying
Click
of cocked gun.
Is that the sound you imagine,
as you fracture my already crumbled heart?

Does it feel right to you?
My anguish whenever my brain allows me to think of you?
My pain as I fell to my knees and shriek like a wounded
Animal.

Do you like shooting me down?
Making me less than human
Does it make it easier to look at me?
Because I know...
it is easier to slit the throat of an animal
than to look in my eyes as you sever my vertebrae.

Does it feel to squash me beneath your number nine shoe size?
The number stamped on my forehead as a reminder
That I am yours.
Your ****.
Your trophy.

I wonder,
Did it feel good as you lined your scopes directly at my heart
Did you hesitate before you
pulled the trigger?
I don't like hunting, so I decided that I might as well associate the things I don't like with other things I don't like. It is easier to lump it all together and pretend as if it is some one entity that I have to face instead of many.
Martin Bailes Mar 2017
The leopard ...
shining so brightly
as one of the earth's
truly
most truly ...
utterly beautiful
animal
creatures,

which here we see
held aloft,
stone dead,
after being hunted
by two of
the earth's
bravest ...
oh so brave
human beings,
the mighty ...
oh so mighty,
Trump
sons,

here smiling
& self-satisfied,
holding the body
for a picture,
this once living
breathing
& utterly
beautiful
creature,
Niqolet Lewis Mar 2017
Take me down to the river
Wash these knots out of my stomach
I need to run
Free
Clear my head
I make myself hard
I make myself sharp
I'm ready to fight
Until they slow down
Almost to a stop
Slowing down right by me
& in this moment
I realise
I am not fearless
Indestructible
Fast.
I am alone
Past mightnight
Prey
To be hunted
Devoured
Disposed
Not hard
But soft
And slow
- I just wanted to run
& now I'll get my chance.
Should have worn a hoodie.
10% cotton
90% asking for it
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
All the animals scurry through the vast woods,
they secretly look across the field to see two legged animals.
Follow them home,
stare at the home,
oh what a beautiful home.
"But look!"
Said one deer in lonesome fascination
"The heads of our brethren hang there"
"Why not us?"
"How much less beautiful must we be?"
They scurry back.
Quickly, quickly! To tell the others.

"What a majestic meaning in life...to be a wall hanging,
I must become a creature worthy of this life"
They all said in unison.

As hunters come and go, all but the lucky ones get their wish granted,
and the rest have the minds to run fast and chauvinistically,
to show off, in hopes of being hung for the world to admire.
Without a soul, and never the free will that the forest granted.

And as one deer is shot, all young doe frantically scream...
"can't you believe it, I knew him before he was along the wall!"
and...
"He wagged his tail at me, you saw it, he really did!"
Its not all its cracked up to be.
Victor Harvelle Dec 2016
Black eyes and no remorse
possessing people
making them their host
they get cut down when the Winchesters are close
Mark Lecuona Dec 2016
I never was a good old boy
But I have some friends who are
I never pretend to be something I’m not
But their voices echo next to mine

I think people misunderstand each other
The life they choose doesn’t mean yours is wrong
You can’t know what they are feeling
Or the way the past steered their mind

I can see why you live that way
It’s not me but maybe someday
I do what I have to do and that’s just fine
I can see why you live that way
But right now I have reasons for mine

I’ve looked the long way down a sendero
I like it better when it’s cold outside
The quiet of the distance comforts me
I wonder if it feels warmer inside a blind

I can imagine anything anyway because I do
Walking is the same thing if you take it slow
It’s hard to describe trying to warm your insides
And missing the memories you left behind

I can see why you live that way
It’s not me but maybe someday
I do what I have to do and that’s just fine
I can see why you live that way
But right now I gotta’ live like mine
A cartoonish grim woman
in aft cabin was a harlequin let umbrage
squash her there a known charter while she'd smoke in bed

her aroma did permeate her rise to eat breakfast
a morning prepared for sore again
only technical her rouse indeed tripped her smoke alarm
and went unheeded to another deck till open bar decided her fate

while her interest there was crickety
where love is deep in the sea
their golden groves were bubbles and waves
while they brim with valuables onboard did spill
and they'd evoke near me without their calling

when aquanauts will buck up gear then they really sever
their troves below that really soften thine eyes
where the air is moist and ye suit there so well
I can tell you I am picky today and defray your kind.
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