It’s not something that can just be explained,
or verminously understood,
No cheap conjuring trick can anticipate
The raw-sauced no-balls
approach to handling things,
That has of late, shown no signs of wavering
Or yielding it’s unrelenting fury and vengeance.
I have seen bitterness and hatred
Turn hands to eisbeins , and dry-age a
Once vibrant semi-youthful cockerel, transforming
That which was once glutinous into
That which can no longer be reasoned with
Or, at the best of times,
A blue eyed hen had once asked the exact same question,
(were i a superstitious water bender, i’d think it abit too
told her the same thing.