Finger Food Poem by James McLain

Modified phonetically, it is a country singer.
Chickens, plucked from cluck to lay, is soft a gown.
Country folk, of simper fla've last to grow thier own.
Caloric intake city prawn, kitchens hold the keys to shorter life.
My stem celled finger on a string, lowered down my throat
it loves to sing, before it greets the feast inside.
Deep within the finger black hole winks into the night.
Consuming every thing in rest, to feed one stars, black heart.