The Transportation of Hens
by Bill Yarrow
ten at a time we carried them
by their legs
to cages on the truck
where they grew silent
in the darkness
of an early market
sixteen hundred hens
suffocated
during the collection
as we reached for them
they trampled each other to death
I was one of the collectors
in the morning, their deaths
were discovered
and we were called upon
to load them
first in nylon sacks
and then onto a tractor cart
we drove them to a trench
not far from the main road
the transportation of hens,
we were told, was a normal
part of our work
setting fire to the bags was not
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Author's Note
This poem appeared in Hayotzer in 1987.
Another poem based on working on a kibbutz in Israel in 1974.
The poem appears in Pointed Sentences (BlazeVOX, 2012).
Other stories by Bill Yarrow
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This is marvelous - so heartbreaking.
it reminds me a little of 'the survivor,' the tadeusz różewicz poem. the flip-side of it, maybe.
actually you'd have been working on a kibbutz right around the time my father was. but the only story he's ever really told me about working on kibbutzes was smoking too much weed. :)
i'm sorry you had that experience though. sounds horrific.
Wow.
Impacting work, Bill.
Bill, another fine peace.
"where they grew silent
in the darkness
of an early market"
Wonderful.
The last line, though...damn.
Well done brother
This gave me the shivers. I did immediately go the Holocaust. The whole piece is powerful, so controlled, the flat tone works so well, the imagery just pops, and that last line reverberates out. Like a scream.
Spot on. I was silenced by this for a while. And yes, that last line.
That's a powerful last line, Bill.
This is strong and wrenching to read. I also felt a sense of the Holocaust in this, as if the chickens were a substitute
"The transportation of hens,
we were told, was a normal
part of our work."
whoo! that line does its job with understated efficiency. form follows function!
What James said.
Very powerful, straight-ahead clarity.
So very, very, very sad. Horrific even.