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 distant shape seen in those bygone memories of the child’s plaything. A reminder of what you call dinosaur, velociraptor aggression, and a mighty presence. Throw your stones and we will eat them, grind out seed into digestible feedstuffs until we are primed to return to that primal, meateater, maneater instinct. Cadmium blood-stained beaks and a rising crow of sun past your lifetimes.
We are origin. We are reincarnation.
Rhode Island Red Chicken
Gallus gallus domesticus
Cassian Kugler is a current undergraduate at the University of Maine studying English. Cassian often explores shifted realities in realistic settings and tales involving a wide range of folklore. Outside of writing, they can be found out in nature trying to find the nearest Fey Portal.