Wolves

Curiosity may kill the cat, but it makes us Man.
How else measure our success, explain how it is we can
Create the things that make us rich, ease our burden, conquer strife,
Cure disease, travel in space, and let poets ponder life?

And that’s precisely why some say we are very wrong.
We are the scourge of our good Earth. The things that make us strong
Destroys nature, extinctions cause, we war on one another.
So vile are we, evil you see, to so harm our Mother.

See now the cow, it’s perfect how it fits with Mother Earth:
Nothing it takes, but it forsakes, and gives it back, rebirth.
For grass to live the cows all give it back those things it needs
From their shit, the nutrients to grow, so more cows can feed,

To be reborn, and more grass support, for some future herd,
All it takes is eat some grass and then drop a massive turd.
Should we like cows the grasses graze, and so with our own shit
Fertilize the grass, and be stuck in a closed loop pit?

Do cows cogitate while ruminate what causes all of it?
What do they think these cows of ours, just where do their minds sit?
On God, Life, or Mom Earth? No, it’s: Is killer wolf at bay?!
You see it’s man that from cows keeps the big bad wolf away.

And kid me not, nature’s not nice, things die for no reason
But feed some other thing in need. There is a killing season
For most every kind. They need to kill so they can live.
It’s savagery, a killing spree, let’s not excuses give.

We would not hold cows in such fine and lofty sentiment,
If domesticated them we’d not, in a niche cement.
The cows don’t care, by them its fine, if all wolves we did kill.
I have not doubt that of all cows, each wishes all wolves ill.

We eat some cows, others we keep for milk and some to breed
To make more cows, but in exchange the whole herd we will feed.
But have you seen what cows do to forest, brook and briar?
They’ll eat it clean, leave not a twig, make stream a soupy mire.

Cows are not noble, no indeed, nor are other breeds;
The elk will eat their way to death; fish don’t do good deeds
For other fish, or even us; that is a human wish:
To reach out hand, do what we can, for man and even fish.

To wish the world was pristine, denies that which makes us Man.
If all the earth was pure “Green,” with no man, so seems the plan,
Then who would cherish it, this pure Earth that so many wish?
For Man would not exist to love cow, wolf, or even fish.