Eduardo's Soliloquy

I greet the morning sun with a warning and a shout,

Stretching full to   
And stretch full to let her bask in my glory.

It's my turn;
Today I shine.

I've seen the others,
And tasted them.
Too weak to make the cut,
They'll make the chopping-block instead.

Their watery blood whets my appetite
but lacks substance to sate it.

When the man comes to pick his winner,
"Eduardo"
Will be the name on his lips.
And I will win for him,
And for myself.
The others are barely better than the caged ones.
Blind in their boxes.
Where all questions have easy answers,
If they bother to ask
Content to sit and stare at the walls,
And pretty, moving pictures.
Never wondering what's on the other side
Of their tin-foil covered windows.

The Man comes,
And as expected
I am the one
that is selected.

"Come, Eduardo,"
He says to me.
"Come to me and meet your fate.
Win for me, Eduardo,
And the places of honor are yours."

He takes me to the arena.

Underground and crowded,
The smoke-filled air is thick with sweat and death.
The odor of the blood of the unworthy
Is my aphrodisiac

He prepares my weaponry.
Razor spurs on feet and beak,
And it hurts, but,
The pain is a small price to pay for the glory.

They gather round the circle and
Their leader calls us out
"Juan-Carlos Phillipe Martinez,
Bring your bird to me."
A poke, a prod, smile, nod.
"He's okay," the man announces.

"Your opponent," he says
"Is Enrique Valdez,
And his undefeated Rooster, Giuseppe.
Make sure your Eduardo doesn't die too fast,
We want to keep the spectators happy."

I can see Giuseppe across the circle,
He meets my stare with vicious glee.
Too cock-sure is this idiot,
Undefeated, not against me.

The man leans in and holds me
Teasing, over the pit.

"Eduardo," he whispers.
"Remember this-
Strike fast and you may live.
And when all else is gone from you,
What you get you also give.
So give him hell."

He releases me. It is time.

I fly to meet the challenge
And we clash in feathers and noise.
The game is on and I am become death.
My beak is covered in blood,
But whose I cannot tell.
For every time I cut and slash,
Giuseppe delivers me hell.

I wish I were back in my home.
Where all questions have easy answers,
But I never bothered to ask.

No.

I won't give up quiet,
I'll not roll under this weight,
I will not be the one who died,
That will not be my fate.

I see it then,
His weakest point,
The neck clear and exposed,
I lunge and slice with steel-tipped beak.
And Giuseppe is disposed.

His head hangs by a gristled string.
And no sense can be made of his movements.

Enrigue scoops the floundering corpse,
Into a burlap sack marked "Waste,"
And, at last, I am sated,
By his blood that I still taste.

I greet his death with a shout,
And stretch full
To let them bask
In my glory.

As I fall,
In the pool of blood sprung from my belly.

The man comes and whispers,
"Eduardo, you have done your job,
My winnings have never been higher.
You will taste nice with corn on the cob
Slow roasted on an open fire."

And his voice slips away as darkness falls,
And my day to shine is over,
As a warrior I stood and fell,
While the others live on a while longer.
But this does not bother me,
For they are nothing but McNuggets, while I...

I am
And will ever be,

Eduardo.