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2026-06-15

jim
You're talking about two different things: cruelty and conscience. You're not responsible for the shop's owner's cruelty. Were the goat lovingly tended until the axe dropped, it would be a very different poem. Then it would become a poem of conscience.
2026-06-09

Griffonner
Oh, Mickeko says it for me, and does what I do about the sometimes unavoidable act of killing! This is an honest meditation about the hypocracy practiced every day by a large proportion of humanity. I heard someone say quite recently,"I eat meat, but let someone else do the murdering" I thought it was the ultimate truth of the subject. Well, of course I would as a vegetalien - itself an hypocracy: As if fish aren't living creatures! I recognise, reluctantly, that I have lived a lifetime of this hypocracy. But then, if you are like me, you recognise that everything that is potentially food, vegetables and fungi included, are living organisms - we cannot win in this respect! Blessings, Allen
2026-06-08

mickeko
Some lives
are disposable.
I always apologize
even to flies I swat.
To the joy of those around me,
but not for it.
It is a post mortem
as they can't hear me.
Being dead does that, right?
​It helps me remember
how fragile we are.
2026-06-08

arquious
As will ours in the greater scheme of things.
What leaves do we reach for while mortgages and dysfunctional relationships garrotte our necks? Laurels? Mint? Tobacco?
We make the most of it for the knife is sharpened on the butcher's block. Nice one, S!
2026-06-08