RAINE REFLECTIONS
Eating Chicken
He stood there
eating chicken over the kitchen sink
he was a second-rate man
draped by his own sagging flesh
the master of a tired domain
and the peculiar owner
of a singular solitude
a wretched slave to ambivalence
looking solemnly through
his aluminum framed window
watching his neighbor wash dishes
she’s not young, but middle aged
handsome in a classic way
he imagined that she was probably
as lonely as he was
and that the only warmth she ever got
was from her soapy dishes
© Christopher Raine