Sitting tall and handsome,

Striking and vain in your Satya Paul tie.

With a clink of crystal,

Lighthearted chuckle, your woman’s lust seduces the eye.


Not a hair out of place,

Trimmed flawless, plucked, combed, and neat.

You summon the vegan waitress,

With your arrogant wave, she appears at your feet.


Lofty French spoke,

With mocking contempt, you order tortured veal with rye.

But, at the window,

Not a notice you gave, a cold, wet, hungry dog limped by.


The valets so worship,

Your Porsche, still warm, now safe, sheltered from the ride.

As you feast on flesh,

The earth, she withers, the animals harmed cruelly then die.


The vegan, she ask, “But why?”

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