Welcome to the Farm

It’s hard to argue with them…
because they never listen.
To them you are
undecorated, unadorned
the composition of yourself is like a static fabric
exhausting only in the mind and apprehensions of other people.
You are rendered down
like animal fat and poured
into something else;
paint or glue
until there is nothing left of what was originally you.
People tell you: You are collaborating, You are now a part of a collective and community. But how is this so when your only contribution was as a part of the experiment, but not part of the process?
You were processed
— and here we come back to meat.
Some of us are slaughter.
Think of the pigs, drunk wearing human clothing, and eating the meat of their fellow animals.
Do you remember them? The pigs? The other animals? Staring through the twilit windows? Their animal jaws flung open in awe, and bewildered in shock- as if they, as if we, didn’t know what was going on all along.

We, you, I, he, she…they… no you…the collective us and them… we ignored too much.

We all clap hands
and we all fall down.