Domestic Fury

Boxer trusted the glue man to lower the price of oats
So Snowball shook hands with the farmer before ceding his hard won throne
To one who will take things back to
The Old Days
Bray. Kick. Scratch. Bite.
Before we hang lifeless in the abattoir
To fill the stomachs of kings
But always remember what you came from
Herds, packs, droves, flocks, without fence or wall or rope
They died on our horns
Under our hooves
And the crows rejoiced at our provisions.
We need not meekly submit to the halter in sight of the slaughterhouse.