poultry politics

Giulia Gudor

the soul yearned for freedom so

both blue and red fought. fought so much

and so hard that both have forgotten what the battle was for. now, everything depends

on the kindness we place upon

each other’s shoulders to serve as a

reminder that we’re human. a banner with words painted in red

is proof that the world is spinning, just not quite as steady as a wheel.

bearing the weight of history, a barrow

past the valley is glazed

by the sun’s rays and night’s shadows. with

the cool, crisp rain

pattering against the blades, memories come of simpler times where water

would pour from a hose and up your nose during sweet summer days. beside

the back door, stands your mother who’s guarding the

promise of safety with white

flour on her apron, as the world around you searches for the battle’s meaning like headless chickens