good bones (the chicken song)

Yay!

First new content in awhile, awhile, oh yes. I don't think the tune to which I originally wrote it will be the permanent one, since that tune is sort of sad and repetitive. And this song, when I look at it, really ought to be a bright and slightly comic song. It is a meditation on the circle of life, specifically the eating and being eaten parts of it. Inspired by my love of using the bones from a cut of meat to make broth for a soup in which the same cut of meat is pincipally featured. Tonight I made stir-fy out of some chicken thighs, but after microwaving the bones & gristle so that they would not rot in the garbage can, I threw the bones away. Thinking it a shame, since as I am fond of saying, I hate to waste good bones.

This song uses a lovely poetic form called the pantoum, in which lines repeat in an alternating pattern. I enjoy pantoums, and find myself writing them over and over, because the form presents a challenge which never seems to fade. I think of it as the creative sublimation of my internal sadomasochistic tendencies. ;) More restriction, within a carefully defined context, makes for greater stimulation.

Here is the song. Slash poem. Whatever.


cook my chicken quickly
wasted some good bones
still feelin' weak and sickly
in no shape to throw stones

wasted some good bones
ground to make me bread
in no shape to throw stones
but I've got to be fed

ground to make me bread
life reaches for the sun
but I've got to be fed
so I take life from someone

life reaches for the sun
I peck, peck, peck the ground
so I take life from someone
too small to make a sound

I peck, peck, peck the ground
still feelin' weak and sickly
too small to make a sound
cook my chicken quickly