A Finnish farm where fur is grown
on animals who are
forced to live in cages
that maim and harm and scar
forced to eat each other
in the maddening state they reach
what hell hole we prepare for them
they look up and beseech
every thinking soul who ever breathed
the air into
their precious lungs and thought about
what it is we do
and all for fucking profit
we raise the margins high
and then we lower standards
and listen to them cry
the hideousness and repulsiveness
that we provide at will
no duty of care
no nothing there
just more sad blood we spill
unsightly in appearance
listen to them scream
these are gentle creatures
out of some shit dream
we have made them like this
because we want their fur
because we want the profit
we make them like we were
misbegotten and disfigured
by each other in the plight
of trying to live through each day
and even more each night
so some of us can forgo our brains
and buy into this hell
this bloody world of evil
that the big shops know so well
its all about the fashion trade
and the mirrors all about
its all about the haute couture
there isn’t any doubt
the brain dead mindless
half cut daft idiots we call souls
all spruced up on the catwalk
in their various roles
oh! it is the done thing
the nobility are there
foie gras on our sandwiches
nobody does care
courteous and courtly
shortly we must wear
all that bloody fur that dripping gore
we too can share
heartless clueless farts
who have eyes but fail to see
they have ears but are bunged up with wax
ludicrous they be
the vulgarity of the fur trade
of the creatures in the cage
the obtrusive blatant under bred
who litter every page
Rex Tyler is a Poet, Campaigner, former owner of an organic shop of 30 years, and Public Speaker living in Berkhamsted, UK.