real poker face

in some places its an honour to have a goat killed..
We were in such a place. the sweet thing came down
that day from the hills to meet it's fate,
on the shores at Jala beach.
it was no thrill no pleasure to think
it had led it's life without care up to now,
and because someone had to prove a point
it would be sacrificed for our will.
they slit it's throat and drained the blood
while we had to watch and not wince,
they cut out its liver and ate it raw
and we dare not move an inch.
there are times when it's best to follow suit
and there are times when it's best to flinch,
and run, but this was not one of them.
skinned and trussed with entrails released
a small boy wound the carcass of the beast
above a woodland fire..
sea broke the shale..the sun shone without fail,
and we watched for dear life.
hours later..it was ready for carving..
those hours went so quick in dis anticipation
a delicacy also was the blackened scrotum
which by the mercy of lord Jesus were not
on our list of necessities...
I dare not utter..the fact that I was vegetarian
I dare not, in this savage place..
they would not understand and be insulted
beyond redemption..I had to chew..
and they gave me the biggest
plate of tough salted sinewy goat rump 
that they could throw together off the 
barbecue..and, I had to like it.
I had to excel in my pretence..
I learned sometimes you have to
bite off more than you can chew
and like it....or suffer worse consequence.