POULTRYPOETRY

A chicken is a poetic being, said the cock to itself. Me. Personally. A hen. I would like to be different than any usual poultry and write some other poetry than that. For example. When I’m sad. I would like to feel different. I would like to feel happy. Then more happy. But happy is not poetry. And sad is when I’m not happy and when I’m writing and when I’m sad and writing I am not happy but happy that I’m writing. Like a being being happy or sad. Not being more than that, but being and not animal. Do you think I am an animal? Or an animal? Then I don’t want to be sad, but know that I know not what it means to be an animal, but one who is not an animal. Would you like to be an animal? No, oh no, you answer. You don’t want to be an animal. Nor a sad animal. But a happy one? Like a rabbit or something? No, I don’t want that either, you answer. And I think you’re right. I am only something. More than a what.