Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2009

manchesters gay village

by chris dommett

It's so grotesque to see,
The live stock strolls in
Like lambs to the slaughter.
The more matured the meat
The cheaper it is sold.
The young fresh ones
They're what they're after,
"They're all free range you know."
One farmer bids against another
With drugs and drink,
They brag about the lengths they'll go to
With their lengths
To swing the bid their way,
Then a quick flash of the cash
And the meat is yours.
They're buttered up,
Seasoned then marinated
Then hastily paraded home.
These men now have a hunger,
Starving for their chicken.
Your mine tonight,
I'll devour you whole,
Then once I'm done
I'll put you to one side,
Forget about you forever
And never recall our moments together.

Added: 15.01.2009