Poem: "What Matters"
This poem came out of the September 6, 2011 Poetry Fishbowl. It was prompted by haikujaguar, concerned about the dearth of livestock veterinarians. It was sponsored by Shirley and Anthony Barrette.
[EDIT 9/22/11: The "heifer" line has been revised with input from bovidae per discussion in the comments below.]
What Matters
Some jobs are taken
not for profit but for purpose:
the urge to do what needs to be done,
the desire to make a difference.
This contract was written by our ancestors
when they coaxed the wild horse from the steppes
and the aurochs into a barn,
when they cupped their hands around a goat's udder
and put rabbits in a basket to save for later.
Give us your lives
and we will take care of you.
Our ancestors took the wild beasts from the wild wood
and domesticated them into livestock.
The contract between humans and animals
is written in their bodies and our diets,
as unbreakable as any holy faith,
for we cannot be who we are without them.
They are still here,
waiting to see who will fulfill that ancient bargain:
the plowhorse that stepped on a beer bottle
the wary heifer intrigued by the bull entering her pen
the prize dairy goat pregnant with triplets
the rabbit that someone picked up by the ears.
It is not just about the cute kittens and fluffy puppies
of the pet trade, the soft work that cityfolk do.
What matters is the life and death of civilizations,
milk and meat and horsepower.
It is about patching the barbwire rips in a cowpony's skin
so he can get back to work and take the beef to market.
It is about delivering a calf at three in the morning
in a cold field under the wild white fire of the stars
and watching the first stumbling steps.
It is about warming panicky goats pulled from a frigid river,
until their eyes stop rolling and their breath steadies.
It is about keeping the meat rabbits healthy,
because in the end, you are what you eat.
This is what matters:
the animals on whose backs
we built our world,
the contract our ancestors signed
with their blood and ours.