This body’s fine, but it is not mine.
It was from the Earth that is was birthed,
And to its source it one day will return;
Like all things.
But oh, not me.
Like all things, but not me.
For when I die, my soul will finally fly:
Streak big and bright and beautiful for all to see,
Leaving chickenscratch words and chicken-thin legs
And stuttering muttering chicken speech
Behind.
January 20, 2023