In our yard

How many chickens can we count

On our fingers and toes

On their toes

Sitting on father's hole

Sitting on his chest

Crushing rocks of dirt

The earth is soft in our

Yard yard

Stones in my shoes

And feet

Dragging them through museums

Where

Under glass

Refridgerate

Freeze

Hands and feet

And knobbly knees

Yard yard