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| "Broked it!" Photography by Mark Richter |
Bush eggs: two. Nest box eggs: none. Feed hopper: full. Weather: an unexpectedly cold day – good for writing poetry.
The people have arranged for someone to check on us and keep the feed hopper full – that’s nice, better service than when they are home!
That first egg of mine that I was reminiscing about yesterday came to a tragic end when the female person’s first-born (who was very young at the time) found it and dropped it. Strangely the female person was very proud as apparently the little person had just said his first sentence: “Wow, eggy, oops, broked it.” She didn’t seem to care at all that the “little darling” had “broked” my first egg!
Anyway, after spending perhaps too much time thinking about the all-purpose (and I mean ALL purpose – poo, eggs, seamen (in and out!)) egg hole/cloaca that booth roosters and hens have, I came up with this offering. It’s more bad-ass rap than poetry – not a genre I have delved into much:
Cloaca by Ruby
Cloaca, I’m an egg maker
Roosta’s got one too – but
He’s just a faker
Gotta egg comin’. Behind’s gonna shak-a
Egg’s comin’ out. Comin’ out my cloaca.
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