Wing Supremacy

In a world torn apart between wings —

the rigid right and the leaning left —

I believe in wing supremacy too.

Except,

my faith is chicken wings.

Selfless wings

that serve not themselves

but a hundred thousand hungry souls

day in, day out.

Not once do they pull out a victim card

that says,

"Look what you did to me."

They never ask me

if I believe in other wings.

Never tell me

there’s only one true wing.

Never insist

I’m worthless because I questioned their authority.

Never sell me bullshit origin stories —

as if Stan Lee hadn’t sold enough.

Chicken wings don’t care

if I believe in all chicken wings equally,

or if I love turkey wings slightly less,

or if ostrich wings weird me out a bit —

because chicken wings

aren’t insecure little pieces of shit.

Chicken wings keep your belly full

and your head sane.

They don’t preach,

they feed.

Chicken wings

are everything

you wish your gods

and governments were.