Wednesday, March 10, 2021

Numb. 1072 Hunt

The creature, I think, sensed the danger
as I closed in for the kill.
Yes, it was wary and it found me scary and
it sensed my lack of good will.
It hurriedly scurried but I was too quick.
(The finish took barely two seconds.)
Barehanded I blocked it, I squished it, coldcocked it.
'Twas a near painless end, I would reckon.

Was I justified in taking a life?
Did the creature have a husband, a wife?
Is violence — ever  the correct approach?
What does it matter that I splashed a roach?
A creature, like me, trying just to get by.
What right had I to say it must die?
Should it happen again, will I relent?
Probably not. I pay the rent.
I suppose, in some ways, I swerve Conservative:
if you can't pay, you don't deserve to live.
And if your existence on mine encroaches,
I will dispatch you. If you are roaches.

That said, CONSERVATIVES (in upper case)
care not a jot about species or race.
They see it ALL as moral problems
and killing opponents is the way they solve them.
Knowing that they are beyond reproach,
they are free to see us as roaches
who can be despatched with nary a qualm.
That we exist disturbs their calm.
If we lower orders now seem disgruntled,
think how we'll feel next time we're hunted.

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