Chicken Sandwich

by Simon Cowan
(Mid Glamorgan, South Wales)

'It's a question of semantics,' I said.
George agreed--
meat eater in solidarity
with meat eater while
Sarah argued
in favour of
the vegetable.

I don't remember How
we got onto the subject
of eating meat--
we talked about all sorts
on those cool afternoons
on the tiny
unmanned train station.

That day, I may well
have gone home to
a meat lovers dream
of a meal--
I don't remember.
Maybe even
a chicken sandwich.

Now, I cook
my own.
Spicy chicken
covered in bread crumbs,
in pita bread
with mayo or
some other condiment.

Paying no mind
to something that,
once upon a time,
clucked, and
laid eggs,
having free range
of a field,

while I spend
my days
in my own
human-sized coop,
trying
to repair
my wings.

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Excellent
by: Katie

I love this poem. It really made me stop and think the first time I read it and is one I can relate to myself. Amazing thoughtful and thought-provoking writing.

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