Poultry Reading

(c) 2007 by Howard Dart Humeston

 

I said come with me

Thursday night

to the poetry reading

and

 

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

mystically

 

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.