“Quit jivin’ turkey!” she said to me.
I most assuredly was not joking in any manner, way, shape or form,
Because I had a certain need.
A gamey desire for bird’s meat,
I had quietly asked permission for a slice of thigh or another cut of leg,
But this little clever Cornish chicken knew how to mess with my stomach and head.
“Quit. Jivin’!” she repeated, glaring and skipping away as she said this to me.
I tried to give chase, but she was too nimble,
Far too quick for the likes of me.
“Oh, but how I only need one slice, one little piece!” I emphasised.
“This you will not miss! As a clever Cornish chicken you will regenerate,
The piece will be replaced and this process won’t be amiss.”
She angrily ruffled her feathers,
Shook her humanoid head,
And then some screeching from the depths of her,
I could not fathom how she simply would not share.
Because as a humanoid Cornish chicken,
Her flesh would return quickly,
This we should all be aware.
She was selfish,
Or, was I asking too much,
No. Not at all,
I grabbed at her thigh and felt her beating heart,
She scrambled desperately, for me to be overthrown.
But I realised I was not like other humans,
I would not, could not unfairly take,
I had to wait until she offered a slice,
Being courteous was awfully nice.
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
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