How the two fester at odds with each other,
poets and scar tissue.
The poet pulling off scabs, peeling back
the layers and scrubbing the skin raw;
the scar tissue glazing over the wound,
smoothing the suture, bridging the cut.
Imagine sticking the words onto paper,
stitching them on, tacking to keep them from tumbling,
as they do, off the page and into […]
Barnsmells of hay and chicken-shit,
dried white like gypsum
and dust-chokey to inhale,
underscore the hens purring
under the hot lightbulb.
Some shuffle and crane their necks
in a pecking hammer, bead eyes
blink—caviar in feathers—
while some are still, the low trill
and guttural sounds of the brooders,
soothing as they roost.
Hens plume over the eggs
like preening tea cosies,
warming perfect oval capsules.
Hold the […]
