We Meat Eaters Poem by jan hansen

We meat eaters

In the café on the first floor of our building
The food served is cooked on the day
Sometimes they serve fish which I'm not a fan of but when I have picked out the fucking bones
the fish tastes fine
They serve wonderful chicken that only a few days ago ran around not knowing they would
Be lunch, but that's life, we humans eat human flesh too when given a chance, living deep in the jungle and fried female tits are seen as
A delicatessen only served to the chieftains who are the upper class in their world and no, if you
Ask, there is no beans on the toast