A frowning hen

I follow a frowning hen
in Waitrose – it clucks &
tuts – it claw-scratches –

it shits in places [eye up
its fat arse as it pecks at
shelves with its beak of

cartilage-nip] – rear end
big with ruffle of feather
layers – fox-luck-fuck for

dinner – such a revenant
until it agglutinates as a
melting – fuck off ghosts

of auld life – lose foxes &
chickens & find my sober
things [rise up – from my

dreamt wretched horrors
of auld callous fat birds] –
I need waking sensibility