Writing Exercise

Postcards fr0m the Sacrifice

i.

En route to Providence

A live chicken has been plucked,
killed, drained and boiled in a pot

big enough to take with it—all
your fears of us—which

I shall not speak of.

ii.

The hard boiled egg under your pillow

With chants can fool your spirit
to thinking it’s the North Star.

And you’ll soon make your way back home
from where we last fought.

Do not count the forsaken slides in the snow covered fields
of our cracked voices.

Because the shell is stubborn as wet snow gloves
and reasoning.

Take out the yolk, examine its texture.

Swallow the egg whole and return home.

iii.

The eyes and feet

Your father tells me that if the chicken’s feet
ball up then do not go far.

That if it’s twisted then do not go anywhere.
If it’s opened then we can leave.

I forgot how to read the eyes.