Sportsmans Club

When I was in single digits
Wandering new places
I shied away from glossy eyes and antlers

No hunting
No animal flesh
No cruelty
No

I never understood
The appeal of flesh frozen
Bones and fur
Mounted like prizes declaring
I shot this

Now road kill gives me shivers
Bone and blood and dust
Are words
Concepts
There are bloggers
Who buy taxidermy animals
For a collection
Of misfit loves

Everything is more complicated
Than black and white colors
On a lit up screen
Hunting for food
Better than factory farmed

But I still don’t want
Those glossy black eyes
Following me around
Balloons hung on antlers for parties
And a bear rug hung on the wall

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