I named them all
though my mother
told me never
to name dinner.
I did: ย Sally, Ann, Nancy, Birdie

the hens only pecked
when I took their eggs;
speckled cream or brown
and warm from setting

the rooster
I didn’t name
because we warred–
we took turns chasing
each other–him,
with those spurs ready,
or me
grabbing him by the legs
& spinning him dizzy;
for the scar I still carry
on my right arm

was insurance–
we might have had
fried chicken for dinner
on Sundays

because of those names
it was never Nancy
or Sally
on the table

but it was never
that rooster, either

About Susan L Daniels

I am a firm believer that politics are personal, that faith is expressed through action, and that life is something that must be loved and lived authentically--or why bother with any of it?
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14 Responses to poultry

  1. unfetteredbs says:

    fun! love this picture

  2. nelle says:

    Naming was insurance, for they, for your heart.

  3. still chuckling! ๐Ÿ™‚

    • ๐Ÿ™‚ We were told never to name our food. However, someone I know knows a family that buys two turkey chicks every spring–one is named “Christmas” and the other is named “Thanksgiving.”

  4. Ian Moone says:

    Very funny a write worthy of my domain enjoying it immensely

  5. Believe it or not, I relate! Dad had 15 hens 3 roosters and, dang I couldn’t take the noise~and can’t eat eggs! Great imagery with sounds! You’re wonderful !

  6. To take an everyday occurance of eating chicken and turn it into such wonder. You are amazing Susan. Great write!

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