200th post, and wasted on an ungrateful rant about essence of chicken. It's not even decent poetry/prose/hybrid, and guess what, I don't care. Strangely enough. :D

--


Have you ever drunk
something called
essence of chicken?

The type always
infused with cordyceps
caramel
and a thousand other mysteries.

When the vile-tasting liquid
goes down your throat
and you feel like gagging -
but you can't because it keeps you awake in History while the teacher
deflects awkward questions drones

How do you feel?

Happy?
That you finally finished the bottle?

You feel disgusted, don't you
...which part of the chicken did that drink come from, anyway?


--

Essence of chicken has a fishy smell. Shouldn't it smell chickeny instead?

Anyway, as you probably can see, I ran out of things to rant about. Vic wants instant chioness. If only Beauty (the machine) really existed.