a blushed white halo crowned the pup-faced boys
and girls. they watched the shaking shell explode
everything shivered. puffed orange. lamped tufts
emerged round-eyed panting and yolked. stick legged
the bubbled and clumsied chirp-chirps marveled
and awwwww one egg stopped moving. the teacher
wanting not to see the children saw hens
nor roosters but the babes knew now what made
downy haired specimens in glass. what blithe
expulsions were meant to be loved. what lusts
inside the unbroken shell should stop pecking.

Leo Levinsky lives in New York City. His work has appeared in the American Journal of Poetry. @levinksy on Twitter.