If you are unable to view the video above or the full post below, just click the video to view it all online. Or visit the Briefly homepage and click on “poems.” Or find me on the Substack app at Ashley@Briefly. This is my post for Friday, May 15.
Happy Friday everyone!
After All
I’m not sure how to de-feather a being
that once ran wild across the frozen yard
clucking madly and making me laugh
despite the butcher’s axe leaning on the doorway.
I am hungry though
and fallen leaves like russet omens
speak of summers and winters long gone
so mustering grit seems imperative for survival.
Later when blood splatters on the linoleum
I twist my hair up into a rat’s nest of a topknot
to enable me to see and execute the dreaded deed clearly
as I wonder how I’ll ever swallow any of this after all.This poem was first published in the 2025 Winter edition of 3Elements Review
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If you’re new to Briefly and have only read stories about life in the Airstream so far, I wanted to let you know that this is also a place where I occasionally share original poems, short stories and other essays. The Briefly website organizes all content in those specific categories on the top navigation bar, and the “in the Airstream” section is new. Click on the button below to see the website and how the content is organized there (I hope that works). Of course if you’re in the app you can scroll through everything I’ve ever posted too, but you won’t be able to view by section.
This poem, “After All,” was the product of a prompt. The literary magazine 3Elements Review has four annual editions, and for each edition they provide three elements that must be included in the poem/story/photograph/art anyone submits. For the 2025 Winter issue, the elements were “butcher,” “linoleum,” and “nest.” It was a blustery, rainy fall day and yellow leaves were swirling around outside my window as I wrote it. I am a visual learner, and also (I think) writer. I see ideas and then just start writing about them and see what takes shape. Sometimes the end result is a total surprise to me, like this one.
For me, this poem is about doing things you don’t want to do, but know you must, in order to survive. It seems so counter intuitive that something uncomfortable and dreaded can ever be a good thing. Killing a chicken seems especially brutal, because they are actually quite beautiful and majestic birds. Aren’t they? Granted, their talons give me the shivers…
I kept chickens in my backyard once – for the eggs! I have never killed or plucked a chicken. But it is strange to think that someone else had to kill the chicken before it showed up in my grocery store neatly packaged so I could enjoy the savory flavors of the meat in a pesto pasta, chicken soup, or with some new potatoes and a nice green salad. I know the vegans and vegetarians out there are saying “this is what I’ve been trying to tell you!!!!” but the thing is, we are carnivores as a species, and I like eating meat, be it a chicken, a cow, a pig or whatever. It’s just that I am recognizing that in our modern world, we are so removed from the actual process of getting the meat… and that act of hunting/killing/de-feathering, etc. is there, but hidden. So this poem is basically, at it’s core, about accessing the truth behind the deed of the end result - how to nourish/feed/save oneself. Sometimes, the deed needing to be done is just brutal.
We are all butcher’s at some point in our lives, even if only metaphorically. It isn’t just about hunting an animal. We need to “kill” by removing things that no longer serve our well being sometimes. Cleaning out a closet removes clutter and mess, but also accepts that certain wardrobe items just simply don’t fit in our life anymore. It is a good bye, and it can be difficult. Deleting emails can also be hard; they are a record of how things unfolded and what was written. But deleting those old messages is also a freeing, a letting go, making space for new history to emerge. Eliminating substances such as nicotine, alcohol and other addictive drugs or behaviors is physically and neurologically incredibly difficult to do. Yet we know they are toxic, so we strive to remove those elements/behaviors. All those things can be difficult to remove… but we understand it’s necessary and the positive sides of their removal.
It can be a lot harder to remove other things that were once beautiful and cherished and perhaps once were an integral part of our identity and in many ways defined us. Divorce. Changing jobs or career paths. Retiring.* Leaving home and learning to be an adult. Letting go of old dreams that didn’t pan out. When we “take the axe” to the things that were once good, but somehow became bad or outdated or toxic, it feels tragic, and perhaps it is a little bit.
Maybe this poem is about accepting tragedy. In our lives we all suffer many mini deaths because we are always changing, and the world and people around us are always changing. It’s like the Talking Heads song, “Once in a Lifetime” …
“you may ask yourself / how did I get here / how do I work this / let the days go by, water flowing underground / same as it ever was” - Talking Heads
Maybe it’s okay to let go of things. Maybe giving thanks for the things that once were is enough. The things you let go of will forever be a part of you. They key is to let go with grace and humanity. Sure, it can get messy. So forgiveness, of others and yourself, is important too. We may all run around like chickens with our heads cut off, but maybe if we can just let the days go by and let the water flow, everything will be all right in the end. Change is inevitable, so is tragedy, and so is joy.
Same as it ever was.
You can also see my poem “After All” and other great work in 3Elements here. You can see more from them here.
Welcome, and happy reading!
Shock metaphor here! And it so perfectly captures the emotional weight of taking an axe to a career that needs a pivot or a marriage that needs a divorce. Messy. And even though you need to do it, the death makes one feel guilty, like the bad guy. Love these Briefly's!