YOUR VIEWS ON DISMANTLING THE ZOO
H. M. Maschler
April 12, 1998
Moo, moo, I am a cow. I am penned into a big shed most of the day, and
me pregnant most of the time (although my babies are taken away from me so
people in the city can eat veal). They do this so I will always be
producing milk, but
I don't get to suckle my babies -- they attach painful machines to my
breast that just
go chug-a-chug until I am empty. A couple of humans died from a disease,
the government says I might be a mad cow -- I'm not, but just in case,
they are going
to kill all of us tomorrow.
Cluck, cluck, I am a chicken. I am destined to be cut up for parts as soon
as I am
fattened up enough from eating the ground-up remains of other chickens (the
people won't eat) and a lot of hormones. I live in a foot-wide cage with
chickens, and we don't get along too well in such a close space, where we
do what we do, which is peck along the ground for food and things, so to
from pecking each other, they cut off our beaks. I'm glad I'm not destined
long enough to lay eggs, because I hear that's even a worse life than mine.
Baa,baa, I am a sheep. (Why is it that they call us a sheep, whether it's
just one or
a whole herd, I mean you have goose and geese, so why not say one shoop
several sheep?) Life was pretty good for me when they let me run around on
the hillsides, except for those damned dogs that kept pushing me around and
hikers that tried to feed me barbecue-flavor crisps. But things have not
been so good
for me after a whole bunch of those mean dogs ran us into stockades where
were forced to wallow in some stinking stuff in a trench, had all our
shaved off, and now we are penned up in barricades listening to a lot of
cold and businesslike men sell us as mutton. I am not a mutton, I am a
sheep, a shoop.
Well, these are articulate animals, which don't exist in real life (we
because animals can't talk, they can't think). Meat is a requirement for
species, vegetarianism being a wash for the most part, but animal husbandry
should not be looked upon as 'producing a PRODUCT'. Factory conditions for
us with milk, chicken breasts, and legs of lamb should be banned outright,
even if it reduces productivity and cost-efficiency. Let the animals be
raised in their natural
environment (like the sheep) before the inevitable HARVESTING. And
them on their home ground! Stop this awful trucking and slaughterhouse
Exodus of the Tigers
by Philip Davenport
Anyway, anyway, anyway the tigers turned
Help was not forthcoming
And the eyes of hunger-yawling tiger cubs
Filmed with flies
So the tigers decided to die
At a private place, leaving nothing
In exchange for the nothing they received.
Anyway, elsewhere in the world
A piston churned a hole in seas of steel
And a storm thundered between pylons
Splashing acid over sun-fields
And windows were all closed
While the shadows from many tiger legs
Cast stripes over a desert bed.
Anyway, you ask, where was I
When the last of the tigers stepped skywards?
I remember distinctly - standing
By a newstand by a coach station
And I bought a paper for the photo
- Framed in outrages -
Of tiger's gold.
Anyway you look the guilt burns bright:
A million votaries in the chimneys
Of a million refineries
Mourn the extinguishing of tigers.
And false tears for tigers roar
From broadcast masts that crest hills like crucifixes
As the crimson head of a buzzard
Punctures a tiger's side.