Singular Dream

I was born in Speckled Eggs Garden.

I will die on Broken Egg Farm.

I’m hopping between them now,

I consider everything

to be friendly

and nothing dubbed.

I am a chick with legs

and yellow hair.

Oh Lord Almighty, creator of

all things beautiful and sick,

who prefers another life on top of this,

who are you to judge?

When Adam and Eve vanished

solemnly into the dark,

shrouding themselves in the forest,

I was timid and nibbling and

stayed behind, betrayed only

by the plucking of my beak

upon the ground you so graciously

provided (thanks).

I did noth with the best,

I am nothing now, do ye

noth with me or not?

Hear me now before I break

O Lord of the Margent,

Lord of noth and straw and all things

sent far, cheerio, sincerely,

I sleep on one leg too!