before echoed agony
of terminating torture,
before the wicked
pulled the body
from boiling oils,
before the hand
grabbed the leg
and plucked it
from the box,
before the fate
of having flesh
ripped from skin
by the teeth
of oblivious oralists,
there once was
a kind mother
and hard worker
who was known
fairly plainly as
only a chicken.
© 2001 David I. Brager