Chicken Poop
everything came from the back door
a peace offering sandwich
something to be lost on the clothes line
and when the door slamed close
chickens scramed with their necks crained back
in their traditional drinking mode
the sound of the back door latch
was forever in thier collective memories
handed down in their genes
the door shut as they drank their last
their soft fluffy feathers turned to down
thoughts left on trianged ground
like the hard edges of earth was the cure
mixed with ash from cooking fires
their poop was like sin and cancer combined
scraped from the feet of snotty nosed boys
corpes stacked like the forgiveness of all
on weathered picnic tables feathered
as if a calibration for nutrition
was calculated in pounds of chicken heads
feathers, bodies and poop
Copyright © Stanley Yarberry | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment