pathwrat i will be glad when it ceases to suffer
i can see the broken bones pinkly
through the wet black of smeared feathers and bile,
it's all abandoned flight and useless failure, thing's i am used to seeing, and brother i've seen my share of this other thing here as well, though this one is slower

and real.

But still i've seen the video. this creature squeaks feebly, holding the wing out, looking for anything like the gristly bone left on the plate at dinner.

it hasn't long.

i wonder if it knows how profound this all is, but probably its much more selfish, thinking only of pain, and ignoring the lesson here, plain to be learned.

i am saddened by this attitude, and looking up to get air, i hear laughter... children are coming, smiling so i put my boot to the little head and with my weight relieve the pressure.

i brush a fly away it skits to the clouds. i push the tiny body, leftoverlike, into the bushes.

little children shouldn't know. i'd hate to see the smiles die, or worse yet, witness the pure ignorant cruelty of child scientists as they experience life.

they pass me still laughing while i look at the spattered sidewalk, hands in my pockets.

they go by, brushing close to me, not knowing

i am death
and as my back is to them, i walk away,

my left footprint telltale of my name.
oldephebe *((shiver)) 030718
what's it to you?
who go