That was where we
saw the chicken being eaten by another.
It had been hit
by a car, that first one.
The second, coming to
inspect what remained,
pulled at the neck’s threaded flesh until
it snapped and fell.
Cannibal chicken, we shouted. It's
a cannibal chicken! While
a man, passing with
his mule and a bicycle wheel under one arm,
turned to
look at us, shaking his head at
our licence plate and
the noise we city folk made.
