The Chicken Witness of Chik-fil-a

The cow betrays me

on a porcelain white platter

it serves my kin

sandwiched between bread

our scrambled babies,

served with their deep-fried flesh

they deny their involvement-

they who walk around with the sign

‘Eat mor chikin’

Sons of heifers!

They think just cos we’re birds,

that we’ve got feathers for brains!

that we don’t know, we won’t know,

that they’re saving themselves!

That they're throwing us under the knife

to preserve their numbers!

Our kin have been slaughtered left and right-

Don’t think we’ll take this lying down cows!

We’ve got your number,

we know where you live!

We’ll see you outside of the farmhouse,

We’ll be right at your door!

You won’t be able to tell the difference between the sky and the floor!