to the dog kid

yo bacon for breakfast kid

one cowlick of dirt hair

converse tangled, average

pick on your younger brother

kiss your momma, oggling at magazines kid

listen up 

with those greasy fingers, kid

don’t you remember Wilbur and Charlotte?

screams of hot oil don’t 

compare to being boiled alive, kid

pink, potbellied feelers 

now textured jerky for your taste buds

delight.

and for lunch, kid?

cut throats oozing red

feathers torn like floss-tied teeth, a scalding bath –

a spa day

for your crispy chicken sandwich, kid? so tender

an experience

flesh to flesh

and dinner, kid?

stunted brains leaking membranes

raped mothers, black and white

confined to a stall for her body’s demand

now the muscle in your hands

massaged and seasoned

alive and pink was she

but now as colorless and empty as

your awareness

but not Daisy

not your treasured Daisy

your golden-haired 

sunshine that laps your freckled face Daisy

because she’s different 

you say, kid?