MY NOBLE ACT


I just signed a petition
To ban cock-fighting in Missouri—
Bear-rasslin' and bull-baiting too!

I felt as good
As a hypocritical 
Chicken-eater can feel,

Till I remembered an interview
A month ago on the radio
With a man from rural Missouri.
Cock-fighting is 
His whole way of life.

He breeds cocks,
Raises 'em from hatchlings,
Takes pride in 'em:
"I loves mah birds," he says. 

I signed a petition
To ruin this fellow's life!

A compassionate person
Has to be able
To put himself in the place
Of someone whose lifestyle's
Embattled or becoming history,

Say a tobacco farmer
Or a typewriter manufacturer.

You have to be able to ask,
What if my own life
Became the object of people's petitions?

Could I live without my coffee? 


And what about
My poetry and art?


Are poems my cocks?
I raise 'em, 
Send 'em out 
To fight for recognition.
"I loves mah poems," I say.


Is the world, finally,
Just a cock-pit
From which God 
Snatches comforts,
One by one?