Inside a sausage slaughterhouse in Mississippi

The images before me
are haunting to the extreme
the cries just enter every cell
its horrific and would seem
to be a work of fiction
but tragically its true
mother pigs are slaughtered
and they do it in full view

of other pigs a hanging dead
and being stripped of skin
imagine how that feels
to any soul its utter sin
unfeeling its objectionable
these are sentient souls
who feel, who think who care
who love
and are killed by violent trolls

whose training clearly doesn’t
equip them with a heart and soul
those cries must get to operatives
who, have taken on the role
to be the pig assassins
and to show some respect for
a creature with intelligence
a soul whose very sure

of exactly what is happening
she can see and she can feel
she has given birth to babies
these factors they conceal
the agony of realisation
that she will also be
hanging from that grisly hook
in perpetuity

to feel those bars about her and that
electric prod
the operative is jabbing her
imagining he’s god
for he puts an end to her creation
in the vilest way
and all her remonstrations
are lost on him today

she rocks she nods she cries aloud
she shakes she’s shocked to be
just another murdered soul
part of this infamy
clad in rubber aprons
these warriors of Hell
acting like machines themselves
something they do well

hawking squawking animated
shouts from them, I hear
alongside that sows haunting cries
that terror and that fear
her eyes a rolling
every which way
clearly she’s aware
the memories of her
life on earth
are clearly stated there

the few good times
are memories she takes with
her to where
ever she is going
away from this despair
this is a sausage factory
a place where foods are made
and she will be in someone’s gut
before the light does fade

torn into, a fatty mush
and forced into a skin
of salted pig intestine
that seems so very thin
known here as a casing
how a sausage here is made
jam packed with excipients
a victim of the blade

hearing her and seeing her
a sow whose life has been
in those vile gestation crates
providing the obscene
purgatory and torture
and evil that man can
and now the end is near
the life she knew
goes down the pan

Man un Kind
and most unnatural
and so uncaring
you will be
also jabbed and prodded
in your own
purgatory
its coming
we will hear you
as you too
thrash on the floor
watching other sinners
wretch and choke
on blood and gore