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There ought to be capital punishment for cars
that run over rabbits and drive into dogs
and commit the unspeakable, unpardonable crime
of killing a kitty cat still in his prime.
Purgatory, at the very least
should await the drive
driving over a beast.
Those hurrying headlights coming out of the dark
that scatter the scampering squirrels in the park
should await the best jury that one might compose
of fatherless chipmunks and husbandless does.
And then found guilty, after too fair a trial
should be caged in a cage with a hyena's smile
or maybe an elephant with an elephant gun
should shoot out his eyes when the verdict is done.
There ought to be something, something that's fair
to avenge Mrs. Badger as she waits in her lair
for her husband who lies with his guts spilling out
'cause he didn't know what automobiles are about.
Hell on the highway, at the very least
should await the driver
driving over a beast.
Who kills a man kills a bit of himself
But a cat too is an extension of God.
From Stanyan Street & Other Sorrows (Random House, 1966).
Used here with permission.
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Rod McKuen (1933 - 2015) was an American composer, poet, and singer. Born in Oakland, California, his early life was unhappy and tumultuous. He dropped out of high school and moved to San Franciso, where he found work as a disc jockey, newspaper columnist, script writer, and folk singer. He served a stint in the army, then recorded several records, appeared in several movies, and got serious about writing songs and film scores. Some of Hollywood's biggest names recorded his work, and several of his songs--"Jean," "The Mummy," and "Seasons in the Sun"--made the Top 40. At the peak of his career, Rod sold over 100 million records and 60 million books of poetry. Never embraced as a "serious" poet by the academic world, he remains the bestselling poet in American history.
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