Minor Injuries Sustained by the Driver, We Can’t Say the Same of the Passengers
Hanging precariously
over an embankment
was not how he
had envisioned
spending his morning
But oh, he was tired,
his days begin so early
Avoiding visibility
is important for sales
when your job is driving
animals to their deaths
Eight thousand chickens
packed tightly
in cage stacked on cage,
as the truck pulled away
in the darkness
that started his day
He has no idea how many
of those chickens are now
clinging, like him,
to the metal holding them
above the fall to
Pigeon Run Avenue
And how many scatter
the road below
He was in Brewster, Ohio,
at 5:30 am,
when he lost the battle
with his weary eyes
and his truck veered
over the edge
Now all he could do
was wait, hoping
the dangling truck held,
while he watched
the carnage below
Pidge was nameless
when the day began,
the day that was to be his last
Crammed into a cage
with so many others,
chickens stacked
both above and beneath
Eight thousand of them
felt their bodies moving
as the truck began to roll
Eight thousand felt
the bumping and crashing
of the truck
Eight thousand found
themselves high above
the road below
Thousands clung tightly
inside their cages
Thousands fell
Working quickly,
the clean-up crew
began their seemingly
endless job
Chicken after chicken,
handed down the human line,
discarded in a dumpster
The dead and the maimed,
no time to discriminate
when you have
thousands of bodies
to remove
A woman emerges,
eyes filled with tears,
camera in hand,
asking for just one life
to be spared
Despite efforts
to escort her away,
she stays as close
as allowed
and continues
to watch and film
One bird
is soon offered
as a bargain
In exchange for
her immediate exit,
she may take this one
No longer
will the Reaper’s scythe
dangle callously
above Pidge’s fragile neck
Through the remains of bodies,
the feathers and bones,
more rescuers search and listen
after the trucks have gone
A bird lying still,
entangled in the thorns
of bushes several feet
from the road,
chirps
The lone chirp for help
is echoed by more,
though lost and left for dead,
their hearts still beat
At the start of the day,
eight thousand were packed
and sent to their deaths
A death different than intended
but death nonetheless
With twenty-six exceptions
escaping in caring arms
Arms of those
who would rather save them
than eat them
Written June 21, 2019