Carnage
Rent from DeepDyve- Carnage
The weasel knew their warmth in the dark,ripped throats, let drop the gangly,
earnest bodies of two-week-old domer chickswe found slain in the obvious morning light,
the chicken coop an aftermath, an abattoir,blood-sopping tufts of down scattered awry,
forty-eight of fifty dead, the two living birdshuddled in a corner, heads under their wings.
My tender mother falls to her knees,her grief instant and helpless and universal.
She can’t erase their fear in those jaws.My father tries what he cannot do,
beside her on the dew-beaded grass,arms around her heaving shoulders,
promising more chicks, a better coop,saying her name, touching her face,
both of them uncomprehending and bloodied,words too frail in the gap as she pulls away. [End Page 95]
James Owens’s most recent collection of poems is Mortalia (FutureCycle Press, 2015). His poems, stories, and translations have appeared widely in literary journals, including publications in The Fourth River, Kestrel, Pikeville Review, Poetry Ireland Review, and Southword. Originally from Southwest Virginia, he worked on regional newspapers before earning an MFA at the University of Alabama. He lives in Indiana and northern Ontario.
