I ran into the chicken man at the Detroit airport. He told me the following story:
Eight Angels Came to Me On Eight Nights
Each one told a story
On the ninth night
an angel came to me in the form of the chicken man.
He told a story about a customer who came to buy —
the chicken man wouldn’t let him in.
He makes me nervous, said the discerning chicken man.
Why are you telling me this story
and why on the ninth night? I asked.
You thought there were eight nights, said the chicken man.
This year there are nine.
You assumed ten energies
there are eleven.
You learned four ways of reading —
there are five
— four levels of the soul
there’s a fifth.
What kind of chicken are you selling
The kind you live for, he said —
everything that issues from the mouth of God
— the kind you can’t do without.