Breast Meat By Juliet Cook

Breast Meat

We do our best to stand out
as chickens. We cluck and we pluck and we pop
another egg. We paint it, try to make it
look new and exciting, but it leaks.

My sheets are stained with egg salad
singing a power ballad that stinks.
Powerball tickets saturate the ceiling.
All of them have lost the battle.

None of us will win because we’re too busy competing
in the latest match that boils down
to who can crack the most eggs,
who can sizzle the longest before we all break.

By Juliet Cook

Biography:

Juliet Cook is a grotesque glitter witch medusa hybrid brimming with black, grey, silver, purple, and dark red explosions. She is drawn to poetry, abstract visual art, and other forms of expression. Her poetry has appeared in a peculiar multitude of literary publications. You can find out more at www.JulietCook.weebly.com.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s