those poor birds

look into the eyes of those sweet golden ducks

and those white bigger geese

and we see

some kind of vision

the watery wastes

but not that these birds now will be

in water despite their webbed feet

and strong legs

they are consigned to a cage

manhandled not at all gently

and slung into one in a rage

hundreds in a domed enclosure

blasted with  incoming air

the cages are small

its not good at all

its a place that just

offers despair

no hygiene to speak of

when they are force fed

with mush and with seeds

its not right

force fed like robots

not treated like souls

mechanical feeding

looking at goals

after they pant

they choke

and they look

out of it really

well I just shook

just felt it was inhumane

what I had seen

how they had suffered

now how they had been

covered in corn mash

all over them they

dont get a chance

to put it away

its all over them

and pushed down their throat

this isn’t feeding

its torture

to gloat

over profits from foie gras

and seeing this sight

brings back all the nightmares

which proves its not right

its an ugly scene

every bird every time

every agonized moment

the bird tries to climb

and is forced back down

roughly

and left panting there

exhausted from eating

are you aware?

and can you imagine

the pain they are in

the gradual diseased state

its a man made sin

webbed feet and no water

just cages galore

messy with stale corn

thats is the score

they are fed like a mass forced into a bag

so unlike real living birds

how we lag

behind in compassion

for life for to me

we are savages clearly

so heartless we be

after a time they select and they cart

several away

to the wall and they start

to cut their throats

then hang them upside down

many are kicking and bleeding

their gown

of feathers

rich crimson as they move their head

blood runneth over

but they ain’t dead

onto the conveyor

passing blood dripped walls

buckets of blood

manned by bloody fools

all seeing all   knowing

but ignorant as hell

this is a job that they

think they do well

blood from their beaks

still breathing we see

their eyes and we look

and we know they see me

onto a table their feathers plucked clean

out onto a table cut open

obscene

600 gram livers swollen and pink

10 times the true size

I am on the brink

of screaming

of puking

of crying aloud

the livers in ice

the workers so proud

the birds life till death

was an ugly affair

torment and torture

and utter despair

no coming back

never again

not to go through

such unbelievable pain

that is foie gras

that some people eat

the karma just watching

is enough to unseat

any,  humane being

who might feel the need

to partake of this shit

I beg you just read

this poem just read it

digest it and see

if after you have read it

you dare eat it, with me

if you do then I hope

you are dead by the morn

cos Im bloody well sure

you should have never been born