Don’t kid yourself
that life is all gingham drapes
and flowers on the table.
You’re only denying the inevitable.
Keeping reality at bay.
Life is bovine, but death is a predator:
clamping its jaws on the back of your neck;
tripping your feet to bring you crashing down;
tearing your belly as you lie, eyes fixed,
snorting and kicking.
Do you really believe you’ll outrun the slaughter?
Do you think you’re too quick or too smart?
Enjoy your gingham; your roses over the door.
But remember to sniff the air,
for the hunt has been on since the moment you slid
from the uterus to the Serengeti floor.
Copyright Kevin Buckle 2015