Category Archives: poetry

by Ashley C Knowlton they stretch like dancersthe ducks and chickensstretching one side at a timeright then left orleft then rightsteadily reaching their leg back withballerina toes pointed,Their wing gracefully fans out and backallowing their feathers to greet their feet—about the only time they appear delicate Ashley C Knowlton’s poetry has been published in aContinue reading “Like Dancers”

by Valarie Hunter Emylia had Claudesince she was a toddler,when her tiny hand fit perfectlyaround his fuzzy neck.Her older sister preferred dolls,but Emylia had her stuffed chicken,brown, bug-eyed, his wingsso comforting to rub and twizzlethat they developed bald patches,his red felt comb and wattleso enjoyable to suck ondespite Mom scolding herfor being disgusting. Claude wentContinue reading “Emotional Support”

by Marc Darnell I expected a little puppyor a fresh kitten, but… no.My therapist arrived at mydoor, with a farmer. She’sa good girl, and she don’tlay eggs no mo. He heldit like a baby. She’ll followyou like a duckling. I saidnothing. What can you say?When they left I researchedwhat she eats. Papa Googlesaid they eatContinue reading “Therapy Chicken”

by Ariel Langen Let there be pink chickensMay chicks come pecking and pushing from their shellsDown feathers pasted deep magenta to their skin from the egg-gooLet red-rooster father and white-hen mother groomSquealing newborn birds into fluffy, rosy dandelion fuzzes Let there be pink chickensNot only dyed pink by dragon fruit and pomegranate juiceBut may theirContinue reading “Let Chickens Be Pink”

by Nikolaj Volgushev To swallow a rooster whole:Beak comb clawBone wing featherBright beady eye (left)Bright beady eye (right)The break of dawn not yet announced Nikolaj Volgushev‘s fiction has appeared in the Cafe Irreal, Hoot, Cleaver Magazine, Cease, Cows, and other journals. He lives in Denmark where he writes, programs, and does other things along thoseContinue reading “To Swallow a Rooster Whole”

by Blake Foster-Wagamon So much depends on the cockfight in the prehistoric yard, on the chicken that grows teeth faster than I can file them down. I find myself in its poppyseed pupils that catch more colors than I do and see a terrible lizard waiting for me. This chicken laid great, green, cretaceous eggsContinue reading “What Have You Done”

by imarkanx Thisiron knife,wooden handled,from my father’s estate,stained by sweat,old chicken blood,imbued with his memory. In the farm shed,we butchered,reverent silence,wearing boots of black.Pluckingripe odorof wet feathers,assorted viscera,staining the dawn. Thirty birds,headless, heartless,heading to market:rinsed, wrapped, chilled.Weighed and priced—giblets extra. After market,we’d stop at Marta’s,eggs over easy,coffee black as our boots,clink of cracked plates,sizzle ofContinue reading “Farm to Table”

by Olivia Mettler Death’s a shining sun but roosters only seePearly white skull hung from a farmer’s apple tree Animal blood fills memories the children keep of homeLike unwatched chickens eating egg and bone Runt roosters face death to sunburst into menSeek backpay in the bodies of plump hens Olivia Mettler is a poet fromContinue reading “I keep trying to write a poem about roosters but write the chickens missing feathers on my family’s farm instead.”

by Grace Brooks In the yard a small body gathers dusk,beak ticking at stonesas if they were locked doors. No one names her,yet her shadow carries a crown,and in the hush between clucksthe air ripples like water touched by stars. What seems foolish—the shuffle, the dusted skirt,the half-winged struggle of ascent—is only the earth rehearsingitsContinue reading “Threshold”