Death To Chickens Poem by Adryan Barnathan

Boneless Chickens on the shelf
only cluck amongst themselves

Envious of the bones you wear
and the way your spin stands, unlike theirs

'Pretty Poison', that you are
temps their stance, but they will fall

Without backbones that endure the dance
they just lay around in lazy stance
and talk in aggrivated sentences

'How dare he be so bold!
Let's kill him before he gets old
and talk about our victory
like 'we were born before him'!

But you can not kill me
The Eagle always wins
and soars around the chicken pen
ready to swoop and eat your hearts

So Death to Chickens...POW! ! !
Once again, 'Death Is Reborn'
I devour You


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