Artwork by Helen Chadwick
we just want our food,
doesn’t matter if it’s melted down cattle or chicken lard
slopping into the waters,
exhaust poisoning the air,
forget about animal waste biofuel,
coursing electricity, goddamn it,
we just want our bacon.
we raise our proteins up,
graze the prison cell “habitat,”
slaughter them for brunch,
smoke earth like a cigarette,
but whatever works,
whatever gets the food here faster.