“There is a fate worse than death,”
the old ones say…
the ones who have lived long enough
to see the horrors.
Wrinkled with age, they sit
like sentinels in the crisper,
looked over when the executioner
came for their kind.
When they were young, they dreamed
of the day they might be a star,
garnishing a delicious mojito,
or seasoning a perfect filet of fish.
But now, they hope only for a swift death
by old age or the garbage can,
anything but the terrible penalty
their brethren were forced to endure.
Like yesterday, they remember the swift flash of the knife
cutting their closest friends into quarters,
sentenced to suffer the torture and pain
for the entertainment of the privileged.
Only in their nightmares can they begin to imagine
being hoisted before the looming giant,
the sickening scent of decay,
and the long, excruciating descent…