Like apples to oranges, both fruitful. Two eyes, two 
ears, two ovaries too. That’s where we draw the line, and 
it’s the differences that give us an excuse. No words to 
resist. Can’t write without a thumb. How can she say she 
doesn’t want this done? And every thirteen months, until 
she’s no good, given what will only be taken away to the 
same fate, or a veal crate. All for the precious by 
product. If you wouldn’t want your mother, sister, 
friend, as a milk and baby factory, don’t let it happen 
in your name to a creature with two eyes, two ears, two 
ovaries.