How Could You

1 August 2018

In darkness slicked with humidity,
I practice nocturnal habits
scented by anal secretions.
Milked glands daub human skin,
rain-soaked undergrowth
breeds my musky smell.
Maligned for the spread of a deadly virus,
I am culled in a blame-dance seeking revenge.
Is it I who infect – or you?
A creative hunter in a love tryst
with cherries from the coffee tree
I peddle to your desire,
the bean survives gut juices to yield
kopi luwak
sumptuous for its rarity.

You wear my arse,
drink my shit,
curse rivers,
devastate my habitat.

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