ZheJiang
is no holiday destination
its worse than hell on earth
there cannot be
a worse place
for the canine tribe to go to
probably in all of history
its where a manlike breed
exist and torture
dogs for meat and fur
now everyday
if you tried to imagine the
worst things that could happen
you would never realise
the price they pay
taken off the streets
and pressed into cages
some cages are so small
they cannot move
and there they stay
their big eyes
growing smaller
their big hearts
breaking a little
everyday
man’s best friend
thats what men say about them
their loyalty is
something to admire
like every living sentient
on this planet
being tortured
really it is dire
they love life
every bit of life
wherever
in the city
in the countryside
even as a stray
wandering away
life is life
which cannot be denied
but holed up in these cages
transported on those trucks
thrown about like
sacks of earth
sold for a few bucks
the limbs are shattered
often when they’re tipped upon the floor
their cries though shrill are clearly
something to ignore
stacked up in the hot sun
to fry in their own lard
some so close together
like sardines. its so hard
to realise the passion
for life that they once knew
lamenting, fretting earnestly
not knowing what to do
the sins of man are evident
the callousness is here
the violence and the loathing
its offensive to the ear
its baneful to the eyes that see
the vindictiveness of it all
its abhorrent to believers
watching these souls crawl
about in utter misery
their eyes lost worlds away
clearly they are hearing sounds
of others, the dismay
the wretchedness the evils
the murmurings of those
already waiting for the end
as time goes by they pose
in so called slaughterhouses
but hovels I’d describe
filthy wretched hell holes
where devils might imbibe
cages of live canines
all around the place
watching as their friends
and families
suffer the disgrace
ripped out of their cages
and smacked about the head
just a second of unconsciousness
to receive more ugly dread
pummelled into oblivion
by a boot or cudgel, they
are stabbed through
with a rusty blade
and still can feel the way
their blood takes a few minutes
their eyes still peer ahead
whilst their hearts are pumping
the adrenaline is led
and still these man like creatures
are murdering away
are tormenting unrelenting
in the suffering of each day
as other dogs bear witness
they watch as others die
they must be just beside themselves
knowing that its high
time for them and slaughter
is horrible and near
a frightful end is on the cards
imagine all that fear
lets put ourselves in their cage
lets be a dog for now
lets look into the abyss
and truthfully lets bow
down before the man freaks
lets watch them as they stare
lets see their ugly bloodied fingers
for they do not care
they look at us and hurt us
they stare at us and stab
they are the sickly monsters
probably someone’s dad
some child kissed that this morning
that frightful monstrous face
that goes back home each evening
one of the human race
I find it hard to imagine
that the sickly nasty shit
has a wife and any family
for in truth he makes me spit
vomit just to think this cretin
could live close to me
and smile perhaps out on the street
just someone I might see
who in this dark enclosure
becomes depravity
who treats sweet dogs
like they are already dead
if you ask me
anyone who can do this
must never sleep again
to close one’s eyes
and realise
they provide
now so much pain
to the loyal
and to the innocent
that they spurn and they condemn
its nausea apparent
and from the bowels they stem
the hatred of the being
the humiliation we
feel with all our spirit
our defeat ingloriously
stretched down to the knuckles
and up into the clouds
the canine spirit buckles
as the curling bloodied shrouds
envelop us completely
as our senses drift away
its pain and utter torture
that ends our final day
boiled alive that feeling
of being in one’s soup
the pain is really awful
you want to loop the loop
tasting what is you yourself
before life leaves your frame
imagining the ghastly ones
who probably will claim
how wonderfully rewarding
it was to sup and sigh
to chew upon your body parts
and suck a living eye
that still might glimpse
a tonsil on its journey to beyond
into the digestive depths
that vile and brackish pond
to be a dog in China
is to be always in fear
for being picked up by the gangs
and perhaps ending here
in the darkest hole there have ever been
where depravity is seen
in the bloodied mucus ridden rooms
of the obvious obscene
to come and view the remnants
to smell the ugly scent
is to vomit and to reach a point
where no one is content
to walk on rancid innards
streaked with blood and snot
teach one to realise
that when ready for the pot
the unclean hands of the slaughterers
are something to abhor
their stench is vile and gory
its strikes terror to the core
all of us are victims
all of us we know
are as down trodden as we thought we were
at the rainbow bridge we know
there’s another world to come to
when the human world says we
must leave it and so many are now leaving
constantly
10 million dogs are now slaughtered
in China for their meat
and of course your so called faux fur
so that china can compete
Rex Tyler is a Poet, Campaigner, former owner of an organic shop of 30 years, and Public Speaker living in Berkhamsted, UK.