Poultry Reading

(c) 2007 by Howard Dart Humeston


I said come with me

Thursday night

to the poetry reading



she says

poultry reading?

what the hell is that!


and I says

your brain is drifting

south again Vickie


I said

poetry reading like Keats

and Browning and Frost and

she says


laughing so hard she spewed

her cafe mocha

I’ll rather go to a

poultry reading


so I pictured some gypsy lady

with a red and yellow

scarf around her

sweaty head holding

a clucking chicken

in both palms squinting



telling fortunes and I turned to

her laughing too and said

you’re right Vickie,

but for that we’ll have to go

to Miami.