ten at a time we carried them
by their legs
to cages on the truck
where they grew silent
in the darkness
of an early market
many hens
suffocated
during the collection
as we reached for them
they trampled each other to death
I was one of the collectors
in the morning their deaths
were discovered
and we were called upon
to load them
first in nylon sacks
and then onto a tractor cart
we drove them to a trench
not far from the main road
the transportation of hens
we were told was a normal
part of our work
setting fire to the bags was not
This poem first appeared in Hayotzer in 1987. It was reprinted in the collection “Pointed Sentences” (BlazeVOX, 2012).
Bill Yarrow is professor of English at Joliet Junior College. His work has appeared in many print and online journals, including Poetry International, DIAGRAM, The Del Sol Review and RHINO.