To a Box of Peeping Chicks

You are so endearing to me, now.
Your lyric chirps and puffed yellow coats
make those early, nervous hours all worth it.

As I look upon your frenetic joie de'vivre,
I am reminded of how far you've come,
of the time before you were so easy to love.

I am reminded of the hours I spent constructing
the machine that would replace your mother.
I'm reminded of its droning hum.

I think back to the ugly, embryonic state
in which you scratched your way to the world.
I picture the pink flesh, and the bits of blood and shell.

I am your god. I'm sorry that I am not a better one.
Once you are grown and fat, I will kill you one by one.
I'm not really very sorry, for that.