Opening the Chicken Pot

Opening the Chicken Pot

 

Opening the chicken pot, full of steam

And delicious chicken aroma

I swear I saw the chicken shrug

As the warm liquid ran across its skin

 I thanked the bird

For offering us its body

 How many chickens have I ingested into my body?

I should have wings.

How many eggs have fed me

and my hungry, multiplying family?

 That shrug –

Did it mean, “I’m tired of the sacrifice”?

Did it mean,  “Alright, I’m ready to give it up now”?

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