How to Kill a Hen

Enter the night coop

whistling

Through your teeth

sing

In this awful world of sorrow

sing

In this wicked path of sin

Tuck her

under your arm

and walk away

from the laying birds

the cuckold-morning

rising in their dumb wings

Walk away from sleep

Make sure her hollow bones

alone will be warmed by it

your wordless bellows

breast

For this is your gift to her

Tell her

you never think of tomorrow

Tell her

what you’d lose in the end

Enter the night coop

whistling

Leave whistling

Climb the dust hill

When you get up

to the house

ring once the orbit

of your failing

Over your head

a breaking neck

For this is your gift to her:

You can hear your savior calling

barefaced and feather red

This poem first appeared in Still (Spring 2012) and is from Render / An Apocalypse (Cleveland State University Poetry Center, 2013).