CHICKEN GIRL

There is the motherless chicken girl.
The six-legged chicken girl,
born in some glass tube 20 miles away,
in a red-white building.
She sits on the ground
where her cousins laugh at her
from their white fence perch.

She would run away from home,
but not only could she not fly
like her vain cousins,
she could not stand and walk either.
For she had no mother to teach her how
on her six scrawny legs.

When she is taken back
to the red-white building,
she will be the star, though,
to be groomed with oil and powder.
The cost-efficiency dream,
they will call her.
And they will make her sisters.