livestock

the rhythm stops for sliding doors. an army of God's children waits for arguments outside. banners with photos of lifeless pigs hanging from bars in the slaughterhouse. I feel for the vegans fighting for converts with such a noble cause. haven't they heard? change is a daydream - there's no stopping the machine. what hope is there for livestock while we kill our kids in thousands? I want to tell them to watch the news. the men in suits have sold our souls: we're all just hanging meat. I settle on a nod instead. a smile of recognition spins me back into the sales.

I cross the street to lose a sense of knowing who I am. in the fog I mean as much as gaps between the tiles that make the path.