Messages from Chicken Land

Somebody gets on somebody's nerves -
somebody gets pecked.
The squawk reaches the house.
You learn to tell them apart,
the ouch from the warning
that the hawk
is hanging around again
or the announcement,
“I have just laid an egg.”
And then there's the Anvil Chorus,
a joint effort so disturbing
I am moved to go out there
to that patch of earth
they have laid bare
and silence them
for their own good.
They usually comply
for a small bribe.

As with all my pets
I wonder,
who has trained whom.