Feminine Perspectives on the Chicken Question

Feminine Perspectives on the Chicken Question

By L. A. Lawton

 

Charlotte Bronte:

The chicken traversed the pavement hastily, determined to reach the coach stand before Mr. Roostershire should be informed of her departure.

Margaret Fuller:

The chicken crossed the road to confirm her acceptance of the Universe.

Louisa May Alcott:

The Rhode Island Red tucked up her tailfeathers and galloped like a hoyden across the macadam, anxious to reach the barber’s and sacrifice her pinfeathers in time to purchase grain for her starving family.

Emily Dickinson:

A Road–is just–a Hollow place–

Detained by Shrubbery–

A Chicken–may Transcend a Fence–

In Flights–of Reverie–

Marie Curie:

Oblivious of the hooting omnibus and charabancs in her anxiety lest her partner claim credit for her discovery, the chicken scurried across the boulevards to the patent office.

Marie Bonaparte:

The chicken’s crossing represents a regressive desire to evade the adult responsibilities of the coop and return to the shell.

Greta Garbo:

The chicken vanted to be alone.

Zsa Zsa Gabor:

Don’t be dense, dahling.  The chicken crossed the avenue to visit her coiffeur.

Granny:

Don’t worry: she won’t get far.

Margaret Mitchell:

The scrawny hen crossed the dusty road and trudged up the hill toward Tara to show Scarlett she need never be hungry again.

Nancy Drew:

The chicken scurried excitedly across the street in hot pursuit of the malevolent gang of nest robbers.

Flannery O’Connor:

The pullet tottered backwards across the road through a pool of blood, gabbling like a turkey that Chaunticleer would save her.

Gloria Steinem:

The chicken left the rooster-dominated henhouse and crossed the road in search of intellectual and creative fulfillment.

Madeleine Albright:

The chicken’s crossing was a goodwill gesture which the United States applauds.  I’ve made a note to order my chicken pin tomorrow.

Barbie:

I thought you said Ken was on the other side!

Ann Beattie:

The chicken crossed the road to die.  Alone. In the rain.

Hillary Rodham Clinton:

The chicken left the suffocating regimentation of the egg factory behind, seeking a village of kindly hens where she might find the sympathetic nurture every chick deserves.

Laila Ali:

Who’re you callin’ chicken?

The Chicken:

“I am going now to make a new home….” (Rachel Bunting)

– this last line refers from the poem The Daughter Who Speaks in Toads by Rachel Bunting

  1. This was genius! Thank you!!

  2. Thank you so much! I’m happy you enjoyed it.

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