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Thrown into the cockpit
comb and wattle removed,
barbarism for the fun of it,
no purpose there to be proved.
Wagering and bloodlust,
metal affixed to their spurs,
this night I hear the Cock crow
before the dawn occurs.
Steeped in tradition,
vicarious violence by proxy.
Unfortunately the  wanton disregard
for life no longer shocks me.
M. Zane McClellan
Copyright © 2016
All rights reserved?
Jennifer Nichole Wells, One Word Photo Challenge: Chicken