after James Wright
The hen house was superior—
a chick condo built by our friend
for pullets who grew spotted feathers, or a glossy black
so stunning I never ate one I met.
Those birds were free to roam,
their eggs sometimes green, sometimes brown speckled
delicious. You may be astonished—
fox in a hen house—
to learn of the raccoon, a home invasion,
all six pampered fowl left luxe feathers scattered
on the lawn. Still, better off
than those starved pullets in that poem
with the drunk heroes.
Still better off than an Autumn
beginning in Martins Ferry, Ohio
with football, and steel mills, and its clucking women
dying to be free.
Suzanne Frischkorn is the author of Fixed Star (JackLeg Press 2022), Whipsaw (forthcoming in 2024 from Anhinga Press), Girl on a Bridge and Lit Windowpane (both from MSRP), and five chapbooks. She is an editor at $ – Poetry Is Currency, and serves on the Terrain.org editorial board.