Never mind “unnatural”!
Natural is sold at supermarkets
wrapped in non-recyclable plastic.
Wrapping. Don’t get me started.
My rooster can stand on one leg
or spondaic goosestep to a drum.
It can flap wings or stretch them
in the noble pose of Turd Reich eagle.
My hale bird can sing Hallelujah
in a tongue-tied dialect of Chicken.
I’ve adorned him with a rotating bowtie,
diamond studs in his beak, claws painted
like smarties. Cluck false modesty.
My cock is competitive so is in
with a chance but then there’s the sign
stapled to its brainless head which
just has to be a judge pleaser.
A touch of antique erudition: “Victory
or Death” in Latin. And it’s true,
of course, but truth has no relevance
in the poultry comp sphere.
