The poor puss of the ocean,
the porpoise,
has nothing but us
as his purpose,
when put in a circus
or public sea-quarium
where we go to
stare at him.
We’ll soon have to
bury him,
but till then, he’ll never fail
to walk on his tail
on command
or be made to stand
on a rickety stool
beside the pool,
his freedom, his life,
and his happiness sharing
for a measly herring.
So it’s a no-brainer
if now and then
he murders a trainer ...
or two.
Wouldn’t you?