PLANETARY STATUS REPORT!

You ever see a hen crying?

As its babies are taken away …

You ever see that one tear hit the dry soil,
your heart boils with pain,
as you put a pad a butter in the pan,
and with the other hand,
crack the egg?

The skillet crackles,
the pepper smells nice,
the coffee is ready …

And if you made that sunny side up?
Would you give a little to mother hen?
Would this dry her tears?
Or would she eat her baby in silence …

AND I STILL SCREAM:

“Did you see that poor hen cry?”

(right before its little baby dies …)

Did you ever see a chicken with shovel and adz,
fashioning stone and brick for the FEAT,
as processing pipes are laid by roosters,
and their little children become McNuggs …

No more hugs …

Just a pale bleak building where the little chickens scream …

(no more to ween)

Is that mean?

Why did GOD have to make chickens, and their eggs, so tasty?

(this is the greatest of poignant sadness …)

I open the window,

just a crack.

I’m taken aback by what I see:

A group of kids at TARGET in a flash mob,

A group of kids mangled from a bomb job,

All I know is the window lies and shocks.

***

I open the window a little more,

I see a whore talking about TRUMP on TV,

A miserable spectacle of folks wearing patches,

all in honor of an ORANGE PRINCE,

and his traveling partner: Randall Flag,

and still the window seems like a gag.

***

I could not stay away more than a night,

the window closed and nothing to “see”,

but it beckons as all great street performers do,

to play 3 card monte or guess the beans,

and unseen forces move the show,

so I open the window once more,

to be shocked and lied to,

you know the score.