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---------------------------- I Bleed for This? ------------------------------ 
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                          Poetboy Goes to the Zoo 
                                by Snarfblat 
 
     Poetboy arrived at the school with a smile on his face, for today was 
the day of the class field trip.  They were going to the zoo.  During the bus 
ride to the zoo, the teacher told them a few rules.  "Now children, your 
visit to the zoo will be much more fun and educational if you follow these 
simple rules.  One: Do not pet the animals.  Two: Do not feed the animals. 
Three: If something says 'DO NOT TOUCH', don't FUCKING touch it!" At this 
point she pulled the glove off her left hand to reveal a scarred stump with 
the remains of two fingers dangling limply from it. 
 
     When they got to the zoo, everybody except Poetboy went inside.  Poetboy 
stayed on the bus and wrote a poem.  Then he got off and looked for his 
class.  He went into a building that looked like a zoo.  Inside it, he saw 
long rows of cages with animals in them.  Some of them were being fed by 
tubes because their mouths were sewn shut.  Others were eating white-out with 
their eyes.  Poetboy didn't know why there were so many rabbits in the zoo 
and no other animals.  And he wasn't too sure if they enjoyed having their 
skin peeled off and being dunked in vats of perfume. 
 
     He pulled out his notebook, sat down and wrote a poem. 
 
     Oh, wee bunnies, how harsh is your plight! 
     would that you could escape into the night 
     your skin all peeled off, your mouth stapled shut 
     needles in your eyes and a tube in your butt 
     who will stop this mutilation? 
     carry out your liberation? 
     i'd love to help you, to save you all. 
     every time i put on the damn radio there's nothing going down at all. 
 
     Poetboy memorized this poem, then rolled it up and smoked it. 
 
At this point, the teacher led the rest of the class into the building full 
of bunnies.  "Class, this is where the bad animals go.  It is called the 
Gilette Product Testing Facility.  Dangerous chemicals are poured onto their 
raw, exposed endoskeletons, so that the products can be made safe for 
humans."   
 
One little girl, named Sarah, spoke up.  "Teacher, why don't they test these 
chemicals on people?" 
 
"Good point.  Most of you are essential workers.  But Poetboy over there, 
he's just writing poems and smoking them.  He contributes nothing to the 
group as a whole.  Let's mess him up!" 
 
The class, led by their teacher, attacked Poetboy and tied him up.  Then they 
shot him.  Then they skinned him.  They drew a graph on his raw, exposed 
endoskeleton and numbered each sector, then poured a different toxic chemical 
on each one.  Some of the sectors bubbled and frothed; others turned red, 
others black and crusty.  Poetboy's tongue (Area #42) was dipped in a vat of 
pure, concentrated Yellow #5, which worked its way up into his mouth, 
spreading slowly throughout his whole body.  He crumpled to the ground, a 
skinless jaundiced pulp.  A pack of wild dogs launched themselves onto his 
back and bit off his hands.  They ripped the muscles away from his spine, and 
with the help of Poeyboy's teacher, disconected it at the base of his brain 
and pulled it backwards.  By now he was pretty dead.  The last thing he was 
conscious of was his eyes being eaten out by newts.  Then he lapsed into a 
pain-induced coma.   
 
His songs never again smudged the air. 
 
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