By Doug Holder
PROMPT — Joy is ...
They are such flirts
shaking their ample
rumps and breasts
a ruffle
of come hither feathers
pecking out a mating song
their twisted gams
in a spastic dance.
Of course
they will
eventually become
a placid, gravy-laden
chicken croquette
taken in the mouth
by some ravenous
spouse
or perhaps
a discerning
mouse.
Doug Holder is the founder of the Ibbetson Street Press, and the co-president of the New England Poetry Club. He writes from Somerville, MA.
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