The Unattended Chicken Breasts

The other night an eerie sound disturbed my sleep

I put on my gown and went to check- but nothing in the deep!

Back to my bed, I closed my eyes

Only to be woken up again by the cries.

Undaunted and angry, I checked my kitchen

And there it was- the chiller box.

The chicken breasts shuttling between the corners,

Fighting tooth and nail to be out of incarceration, those mourners.

Realizing that I had given up eating anything boneless

I felt pity for those unwanted guests; cursed my friend

For inviting them home, toneless.

Succumbing to the lack of options, I took them out

Sliced them into two thin pieces and then

Beat them with sharp and soft blows till they started to shout.

Dressing their wounds, I sprinkled some salt, pepper, herbs and oil

And left those chicken breasts alone, ensuring they do not spoil.

Heating the grill pan and spraying some oil on high flame

I grilled each of them, providing enough steam so as not to blame.

They swelled with happiness, fleshy and meaty

And my mouth watered and nostrils inflated in macabre simultaneity.

But what’s the joy of eating when the heart fails to whisper

I wondered if the refrigerator would have an ally in the crisper!

Just then another clatter nearby made my hopes touch the sky;

I found Chicken Curry from yesterday that flashed a smile that was wry!