Mr Mascellani's Musings

The purpose of my journey, was not
as others have put it,
merely “ to get to the other side”
No. My aim was to smash the stereotype
of chicken as symbol of cowardice.

For what else could subvert such a notion
but for a chicken, such as I,
to cross from one side of the road to the other.
From a place of familiar safety to a place of the “Other”.

I did want to cut asunder the stereotype,
but also I wished to test my own intestinal fortitude
And, Oh! the siren’s call of the other side,
it beckoned me to cross over
like sun-kissed grain calls me to devour the delicate flavors of its epicurious deliciousness.
But would I even survive crossing the road?
And if I did make itwhat form and matter of uncanny ness would I encounter?
Would I have the stuff to prevail- such a travail-
physically, psychologically, and emotionally?

Finally, the time was right,
As right as the moment that a chick starts to peck itself out of the egg.
I felt like such a chick.
So, knowing that my life as I knew it
would hence forth be deconstructed for ever more,
and that I may well be entering the Deleuzian flow,
I crossed the road.

Unfortunately,on my return,
I found myself unable to explain the other side
to those who have never encountered it.
And my tale
translated it as was from Chickenese to Aramaic to Yiddish to Latin to French
And finally English,became the lame joke you know today.
About myself, However, I did learn this:
I may have been a chicken,
But I was no coward.