chicken in every pot

I go the extra mile

to make chicken pie

for supper. While

the incumbent hen

stews, steaming savory

flesh and bones,

with enough thyme

and peppercorns, I

ceremoniously sauté two

primary livers, consider

simplicity, how I like things

explained in words of one

syllable, then pour a fresh

glass of Chianti, dip each

bite, wide, in a puddle

of democratic ketchup,

raise the wine high,

toasting the fowl

and my economy.

Tess Kincaid

November, 2010


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