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”?