I am the Chicken on the Chopping Block
By Sandra Völker
Here goes the head.
But never mind, the jewels are just fine.
Chop, chop, chop.
Around I turn my chopped off head,
squawking after Master Newton
who placed me among these naked bodies,
naked breasts and eyes and pussies
that glamour sharply from the stage
of a certain time and place.
I am exposed, no skin, no shame.
Look at my innards!
Without protection I bare it all.
It is not pretty, not even real,
so take that knife and
Chop, chop, chop.
The bush so prominent in all these pictures
below the nipples and the high-end face.
As I said, these are pictures of a certain time and place.
Can you smell the whiff of crumbling walls
of the city that expelled my master?
A gust of nicotine blown from dark red lips,
razor sharp edges in black and white
that promise a future less hard than the past.
Chop, chop, chop.
I am the chicken on the chopping block.
Gutted,
broiled
&
oiled.
Sexed-up and juxtaposed against perfect beauties and curves.
Ideal femininity
Seen through masculinity
Fuck correctness, politically.
I am the most intriguing specimen by far,
a headless chicken in a hedonistic world less grey,
the Bulgari jewels are mine, come what may.
Chop, chop, chop.
You an find out more about the exhibition by visiting the Kunstforum Wien website here.

Sandra Völker
Author and Sunday Writers' Club Member
She mostly writes short stories and other fictional texts and has taken various writing courses over the years, f.ex. at the Faber Academy in London. Sandra currently attends a 5-months creative writing programme and participates in some writing competitions. Her declared goal is to publish some texts until the new year. In her other life she has worked for an number of international organizations and presently works for an environmental NGO in Vienna.
I absolutely love this Sandra. It feels quite like TS Elliot, my favourite poet. Brilliant twists and turns of words.
Wow – what a compliment! Thank you Janice.
Brutally brilliant Sandra!