“Was that chicken aspiring to be a nugget?”
I said to myself,
While driving to a prison in Delaware;
“Or was Purdue not good enough?”
There it lay on its side,
On the side of the divide
Just from the Blue Mountain highway.
“Did it commit suicide?
And jump from that chicken-ridden semi?”
“Can a dead chicken have dignity?
If its Snow-White feathers still shone
Though its innocence gone?”
If I had a choice while being stuffed
Among likened others smothered
In feathers to break through,
Yes, break though the chicken wire fence
And jump to my death I would say,
“Adieu” to your human fondness of
Chicken-meat access and die a chicken,
A white virgin on the side of the road because
It’s better to be a dead chicken and free
than to be nothing more,
at best, than a good eat,
With only bones left,
Your dog’s favorite treats.
I think I better break through to level-five prison
because we don’t make men nuggets yet.
written by Earl Yarington @2019 all rights reserved
