“CHICKENS”

We all try
to cross the road.
None of us know
why
until we get
where
we never wanted to
go.

It's not what is
on
the other side.
It's what we are
running from.
It's what we left
behind us.

The farm.
The fence.
The axe.

We all try
to cross the road
sooner or later.
Some of us make it.
Others don't.
We all try,
never knowing why.

Reason matters little
compared to timing
of rubber on the road,
but we still ask why
chickens cross the road
because without reason,
life lacks its punchline.

narrative poem written on 11-15-2013 by: on mattkane.com
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