by Kamila More Cabisada

How astute you are, fair clucking creature
How hard for me to chase after
The family descends at midnight tonight
You’ll be queen of my kitchen counter

You will dance, you will romp
In the sand, in the hay
In flour, in grease
In salt, in spice

You’ll be dressed in the best
Your charm put to the test
As you sit on my table tonight

What? This is a Sunday?
You must be in church, you say?
[No, you may not!]
I beg your pardon, darling sweet
There are better, brighter, hotter things
Than steeples and pews and roosters that sing

So look at me
Stare into my eyes
And come to me.

What? You must say your prayers?
Repent of your sins?
Ugh, no! Utterly morbid, my sweet
The oil in my pan will wipe your slate clean
This comes with a sure guarantee

So look at me
Stare into my eyes
And come to me.

What? So who is this Friend of yours?
You cannot stand Him up, you say?
Not even for a night with me?

I have raised you, I have kept you
Protected you, fed you
And this is how you repay me?
With abandonment? Treachery?

Look at me, I say.
Stare into my eyes.
And come to me!

But now you run, why?
Because He says you must try?
I shall break your attempt
You’ll see.

Darling friend, lovely dove
What is happening? Where are you?
I can’t see you, I can’t feel you
I am burned by this horrid Light.

Please come out. Into the darkness.
This brightness dulls my senses
It blinds me, gags me, binds me inutile
You must show yourself once more

Come out…
Into the darkness…
Show yourself…
Stare into my eyes.

And return to me.

But you will not
Since you can not
I can’t stand it —
You are free.

Chicken_on_the_run_sm

“Chicken on the Run” painting by Gena LaCoste
http://genalacoste.blogspot.com/2011/03/chicken-on-run.html

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