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Inside a cylindrical glass
a yellow fried chicken covered
by a layer of fat skin
is observed by many eyes.
“Experiments,” the scientist says,
excited, anxious. The reporter,
avid for information, wants
more statistics and results.
The material is thick and separates
the bird from the laboratory air.
A sensor the size of a toothpick
is attached to the dome.
There is a lot of light in the place.
The smell of fried parts mixes
with the ions discharged
by the chicken.
The reporter believes that the experiment
will demonstrate how animal fat
is bad for one’s health. She believes
that proofs are necessary.
They’re all open-mouthed.
Many needles and smoke. Despite everything,
one of them says: “I’m hungry.”
And they all nod, paralyzed.
But nobody moves.
Poem published in Empty Sink Publishing