Jihad Her Chance, Now It’s Free Range Chickens from Here On Out. By Ryan Quinn Flanagan

I throw two packs of chicken breasts in the slow cooker.

So the meat falls right off the bone.

Even season the damn things in the good name of Summer.

Garlic powder and black pepper.

And when she gets home, all hell breaks loose.

I throw the chickens all over the floor.

Tell her that jihad her chance, now it’s free range chickens

from here on out.

She screams at me 

so that I think myself a rollercoaster

on a hill.

Throwing my arms in the air 

and screaming back at her so that

we can share this moment.

Like conjoined twins

in need of a little 

alone time.

Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author residing in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage.  His work can be found both in print and online in such places as: Evergreen Review, The New York Quarterly,The Rye Whiskey Review, Outlaw Poetry Network, Under The Bleachers, The Dope Fiend Daily and In Between Hangovers.