Curtains opened,
About to turn away
And put the kettle on,
He looks down
To garage rooves
Where a hawk
Plucks this headless pigeon,
Then teasing off a veil of skin,
Hooks flesh,
Throws back his head
Swallowing,
Looks up
Locks eyes with him.
How many are there?
More than the stars
But most only take.
How do they live?
Like netted eels.
Do they hunt?
Only for pleasure.
What do they kill?
Anything they can
Even each other.
How do they eat?
Some: too much quickly.
Others: too little slowly
So they all die.
How are they happy?
They’re not.
They’re civilized.
Kevin Patrick McCann
From Still Pondering https://www.amazon.co.uk/Still-Pondering-Kevin-Patrick-McCann/dp