Pigeon in a Henhouse

cartoon from savagechickens.com

I had a dream last night

I was a pigeon

     stuck in a henhouse.

I looked at all the chickens around me

     and thought "What the cluck am I doing here?"

Then some fat hen

     waddled up to me

     and smug as you can be

     said, "I just love your colorful feathers."

"Thanks," I answered,

     but thought to myself

     "You're one to talk.

     Your breasts are probably shot up full of artificial hormones

     to make them plump,

     you stupid bird."

I asked a hen in the last coop on the left

     what they did for fun around this house.

She just clucked at me disapprovingly and said,

     "Why we lay eggs, of course."

I asked if she wanted to go hang around at a park or

     visit a statue or 

     just stretch her wings a bit.

I must have ruffled her feathers because she waddled off

     clucking even louder.

I could hear her telling the others about me.

What a foul fowl she was!

Suddenly I had a craving for street food

     french fries, bread crumbs, anything really

     but all I could see was chicken feed

     and the hens happily pecking away.

     "It makes us feel secure to know 

     that the food will always taste the same," they said.

Bird brains! No imagination.

Then there was a commotion in the henhouse. 

     Squawking, feathers flying, running about, chaos.

     "He's here, he's here!" the insipid chickens cried with glee.

     "Who's here?" I asked.

     They stared at me as if I had arms instead of wings. 

"The rooster, natch. 

     Though you needn't worry.

     I don't think he fancies foreign girls."

Next thing I knew, some cocky old rooster was staring me up and down.

     "You're not from around here, are you, my little chick-a-dee?"

Before I could cold cock the guy, I woke up. 

I was breathing heavily but 

     all else seemed normal. 

Except for the feather on my pillow.

submitted for Thursday Think Tank 52, Animals, at Poets United