The Rooster Next Door

by Dreama Weaver Every day, it starts againA warbled screech, my feathered bane.The sun’s not up, but he sure is,That rooster lives to scream “showbiz!” He crows like he’s announcing doom,And I sincerely hope it’s coming soon.No gentle coo, no pastoral charm,Just full-blown barnyard fire alarm. I’ve counted sheep, I’ve begged and pleaded,But that bird’sContinue reading “The Rooster Next Door”

Rock n Roll Chicken

by Alexis Ashe When I ignite my American spirit,I set the peacocks’ hearts ablaze causeI’m the chick with all thezippers on my jacket,stockings and the white feather stripeI’m the rock n roll chicken Why be some sorrow dovewhen there’s a rockstar on the bird brain?I know, let’s feaston my psychedelic chicken feeduntil the coop’s pinkContinue reading “Rock n Roll Chicken”

Contraband

by Emily Burr A family of chicks lives in the garage,Peeping and jostling their cottonball bodies against each otherThey are confined to the wood and wire structure lovingly assembled by my roommateWhich is confined within city limitsWhich is illegalWhich means the family of chicks living in the garage is already hard at workProving that simplyContinue reading “Contraband”

Am I the Flashy Bird?

by Cela Loud crowing competes with horns heralding terrible driving / empty skillet in the kitchen, again I plea for hens / Guido’s white plumage once ruled the yard, now barren, barely more than a grassy courtyard / Ma killed more than radios when Pa died / the only music now is the static ofContinue reading “Am I the Flashy Bird?”

Prize Capon

by imarkanx Unleashed to strut about,Tail feathers, wattle, and comb,Free-ranged,Unchained,Deranged—Cockerel of the run,Crowing proudly at the sun. Snickering fills the coop.All the hens know the truth.Gelded rooster, you and IShare this designation:Prized and emasculated,Mostly there—but in the end,Just a dumb mannequin.No better than plastic,Like Barbie’s dear Ken,Not a real rooster at all. Author’s Note:This poemContinue reading “Prize Capon”

self-educate

by mk zariel You don’t know what’s more of a pain—your gender, or the chicken you’re currently attempting to handle. The way she runs across the lawn at the childrens’ museum, evading your grasp, flapping her wings without purpose, having a minor freakout. The way you told a toddler, attempting to be funny, that chickensContinue reading “self-educate”

Molt

by Sabrina Green There is one hen in four-hundred who committed to a full moltingMolding, mouldingShedding and pulling worn-out, sunBleached feathers, like chopping weathered locks It is a perilous endeavor to do so,With a flock it is en masse.Hens do not like new, or different, or bright- my glasses and invitationFor pecks and investigation.Against theContinue reading “Molt”

On chicken and graduation

by Ashley Pennock I left for college heartbroken. I took my heart intwo piecesand shredded intofries.My parents went back to the home I left behind, and I wandered into the basement alone. I foundchickendown there, and decided maybe it wouldn’t be so bad here. Ibatteredmy chest inbreadcrumbs, andfriedit whole again. When I dread leaving homeContinue reading “On chicken and graduation”

Chigguns in the Yard

by Shannon McEntee My parents got chickens about two years ago. It was unexpected– my family is big on talking shop about all the great things they’ll do, everything on their platter. But they rarely get anything done. They overwhelm themselves with possibility, I think, and then the opportunity is gone. It’s a loop weContinue reading “Chigguns in the Yard”