Progress in the Chicken House

I say: “Our two roosters seem to be quite good friends.”

He says: “Yes. They’ve established a hierarchy. They all know their place.

That’s what’s so good about chooks.”

We used to know our places too.

Not anymore.

So I say: “Yeah. None of this feminism stuff.”

I’m laughing. As a woman I can do that.

I’m imagining Progress in the Chicken House.

“Grow a tail, girls.

Stretch your wattles.

Enough of this thieving

bloody patriarchy.

We need to learn to crow,

be drumsticks,

initiate procreation.

If they can do it, girls,

we can do it better.”

The price of eggs

would go up.

That’s progress.

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