Category Archives: poetry

by Anna Phillips The specter calls me, yet instinct forces me forward.Each step an agony,The futility of my task does not sway me. Respite could be found, but thinly-veiled hostility seeps from those more alert. Fate is prolonged to prevent needless suffering. It comes for us all, a shadow in the wake of each individual’sContinue reading “Prey”

by K. R. Rose The sun will explodeone day. But hopefully nottomorrow, at least. Tomorrow, at least,the rooster will know first thing:If he lives, we wake. If he lives, we wake,collect another dozen,scatter grain, sip tea, scatter grain, sip tea,sit porch, watch flock—free-range birds.O, Rhode Island reds. O, Rhode Island reds:you’re just too peaceful forContinue reading “Does the rooster know?”

by Cassian Kugler We complex barnyard terrors and our country squire, brilliant chauvinistic in a ruffle of emerald spruce and farmer tans colors. Puffyfluff and all, a ruffled bunch of squawking. An inconsiderate few, always underfoot, razor beak primed for the pecking of bare-ankle flesh. That tamarind shine of both beak and foot, a distantContinue reading “Evolution”

by Debdutta Pal Go play with the chickens.I knew that tone, I knew when to conserve my battery.A week on a farm wasn’t going to tilt the city girl in me,I liked wide open skies,fields greener than two crayons, and the static of Television just fine,but even at eight, I knew it wasn’t mine. IContinue reading “Bird or Broccoli?”

by Maylea Harris my rooster who crows at sundownis nothing more than wasted meathe keeps the farmers awake, my pigs restlessmy hens begging him to come nest but he screams at the end of the workdaylike someone is acknowledging him(if we do, he’d never stop)I’ll do the same at my time, but it’s still annoyingContinue reading “my broken rooster”

by James Joy A scientist will tell youevolution proves the egg came firstcracked from a creaturenot yet a chicken as we see. An Indian might tell youlife as a force began from a sacred eggthat roseout of the primordial ocean.Shell splitting into sky and earth. An Egyptian myth tells the story of the first egg,laidContinue reading “Which came first, the chicken or the egg?”

by Ciro Soleda Avian of the yard, awake — open your adorned eyesBeneath the jagged, barbed border of yourCherry-bright crest: caruncle, crimson red.Discharge your drastic daytime decree,Explosive, expulsive envoy, ejector of stars. Sullen forage I frugally offer;Gallant Giro, you gulp with grateful gusto.Handsome herald of the hollow hours,Ideal invoker, incendiary, invincibleJudge of the joust! JovianContinue reading “Providential Night”

by Taiwo Hassan thank you,for showing up every day,for being a constant reminderthat my mother’s voice is never too farto guide me back home,for picking every grain of rice and dissectingevery bone left unpicked from my kitchen sink,for diluting all the earnest pleas this big purple roomcan’t thin out anymore with your crows.thank you forContinue reading “to the chicken at the back of my kitchen”

by Paul Hostovsky I don’t thinkyou should put all your eggsin one basket, is allI’m saying, I said. Easy for you to say,you said, now thatyou rule the roostand your eggs are all golden. Detecting morethan a little resentmenton your part, I rereadthe chicken scratch of the proposalon the table. I’m not oneto walk onContinue reading “Squawk”

by Michael Eyre We’re on a binge,brace for the cringe–it’s the On-it-till-we-vomit-hen-do. We’ll drink till it hurtsin pink T-shirtsthat scream ON-IT-TILL-WE-VOMIT-HEN-DO. Kiss-me-quick hats,covered in tatts–hail the On-it-till-we-vomit-hen-do. We’ll twerk our buns,lock up your sons–from the On-it-till-we-vomit-hen-do. Trout pout injection,bronzed to perfection–at the On-it-till-we-vomit-hen-do. Shot after shot,pre-tying the knot–it’s the On-it-till-we-vomit-hen-do. Michael Eyre (he/him) writes poetry.Continue reading “Hen Party”