The Bull and the Duck and Goose fighting with diseased livers

The expression that art and music has

is intense or can be so

the art of musing and not refusing

to within oneself just go

to divorce ones outer ego

from the monetary reward

and think about the animals

and those dying by the sword

Raffeallo Eroica an artist

of our time

living out in rural France

where Gothic churches climb

up into the imagination

and the prevailing sky

and artists and musicians

and the poet which is I

dream our dreams of many things

and think of those who die

the animals, the massive bulls

the geese and with them cry

the tears forced really out of them

by  “gavage” and the true flight

the arena and the matador

when the days for them are night

Take the Healthy virile Bull

his energy levels very high

he has the power within his soul

on him all can rely

but he is given torture

he is given pain

the roaring  crowds their madness

over and over again

the mantra of the  matador

boost his ego so

sharpen up your wits my boy

push your swords real slow

think of those poor gaggling geese

standing in their cage

being force fed day and night

and feeling all that rage

the pipe that scars the precious throat

and the liver that explodes

the artist takes this seriously

how it makes in roads

into what is sanity

depravity and mind

torture for the sake of it

we have eyes but remain blind

to the other souls who share this

planet

share this joyous time

but who we steal the thunder from

just so we can climb

out of the pit we make for them

and bow before the crowd

the bull lies dead drowned in his blood

the goose is in a shroud

of pain of the vilest agony

we create, her disease

foie gras farms

devoid of charms

murder done with ease

and for what, so richer viler sods

can partake of their meal

the pate that will pack their heart

the pate of the real

the bull fighting

in France has a judicial exemption there

and so tradition plays a part

and leads to more despair

The Bull the Duck the Goose the man

its not all part of life’s great plan

its torture of the most terrible kind

that the artist and the poet find

objectionable and denunciate

such profanity who dares relate

abusive evil blackguards hear

these expressions only speak of fear

they are ominous they frighten so

the unconsoling too and fro

the callous use of entertainment

and great dishes

precious time spent

in an unrewarded way

creating what was a vile display

an unappeasability

so lacking in humility