The Chicken Speaks

I crossed the road,
punk,
because it was there.

You bought it
when someone said it
in reference to a mountain,

you bought it when
that Frenchman
walked between the Towers,

so I can only conclude
that it’s because I’m a chicken
and you’re prejudiced that you keep cracking wise

about why I did it.  Lemme
tell you something: I
can’t fly, and I enjoy

risk as much as the next bird —
more in fact: I wasn’t waiting around
to become soup or Sunday dinner.

I’ll go on my own terms,
and that road
looked as good as anything I could think of…

I made it, but the attempt,
that’s what counts.
I took a chance.  I wlll again…

so listen, punk,
think of that next time
you gnaw on a drumstick:

you are what you eat.
Laugh all you want,
but you’ll never get me.