you may eat meat, according to every desire of your soul.
Hello! Vegetarian poet speaking.
I’m here to tell you my soul is conflicted
about its many desires to eat meat.
I was eighteen when I gave it up –
a spontaneous decision after receiving
a pamphlet about vivisection from a penpal.
(Penpals used to be a thing. As did pens.)
I was at an Island’s Restaurant in Pasadena
and my young friend and I couldn’t get
furry and feathered faces out of our hearts.
That was the last chicken sandwich I had.
More decades than I’d like to admit
have passed by since then
and, I have to admit, I haven’t forgotten
about the general deliciousness of meat.
Back then the only vague simulation
was a mushroom burger from Trader Joe’s.
We hadn’t invented the concept of
plant-based yet and putting anything
in the shape of a burger on a bun
made us feel like every desire of our soul
was being satisfied.
They make it easy for us now with
words like beyond and impossible.
No animals are harmed in the production
of my dinners and I consecrate my pans
like I’m still in the desert,
waiting to cross the river
trying to determine how the last words
coming from the crazy man on the mountain
apply to me.
Los Angeles poet Rick Lupert created the Poetry Super Highway (an online publication and resource for poets), and hosted the Cobalt Cafe weekly poetry reading for almost 21 years. He’s authored 23 collections of poetry, including “God Wrestler: A Poem for Every Torah Portion“, “I’m a Jew, Are You” (Jewish themed poems) and “Feeding Holy Cats” (Poetry written while a staff member on the first Birthright Israel trip), and most recently “Hunka Hunka Howdee!” (Poems written in Memphis, Nashville, and Louisville – Ain’t Got No Press, May 2019) and edited the anthologies “Ekphrastia Gone Wild”, “A Poet’s Haggadah”, and “The Night Goes on All Night.” He writes the daily web comic “Cat and Banana” with fellow Los Angeles poet Brendan Constantine. He’s widely published and reads his poetry wherever they let him.
