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Mike the Chicken

kept on clucking

for eighteen months.

 

Don’t expect that

from a beheaded human

 

yet a wine-vine growth

pours out a story

that Anne Boleyn tried

 

to speak once her head

was held before a raptured

English crowd.

 

Before the drink, Bloody

Mary’s lips

 

oscillated for fifteen minutes

after the ax fell.

 

I wonder what royal

language got stuck in the mud

of Anne and Marys’ lips?

 

Two centuries later,

when an executioner

slapped Charlotte Corday’s

 

cheeks, witnessing eyes

spotted her cheeks

flip to red light angry.

 

Did she feel disrespect

down to her brain cells?

 

In the young twentieth century,

when Henri Languille

 

got guillotined, a Paris physician

said Henri’s name three times

to his severed head.

 

His eyelids opened, fixed a vesseled sight

the first two times

 

like I fixed to eat Mike

once his headless body

dropped onto my pasture grass.

 

Published in The Rome Review

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