Slaughter House

The animals are lined up
In the barricades 
Funneling them
Into a single file

They can sense
The end 
Coming nearer

They can smell
The metal 
And blood

A grey fear
Building

They can hear their
Brothers, sisters and cousins

They inhale the red death
Of familiar strangers

The cars are lined up
In the drive-thru
Pushing hard
On the brake lights
In front of them
Eagerly awaiting 
To purchase
Death
Packaged
As Happy Meals
For pennies on the dollar
Through a speaker
Transaction 
With someone
Anonymous 
Making minimum wage
While their greedy
Selfish 
Obese
Stomachs growl

Not giving 
One thought
To the animals
That waited
In line
Before them