Goulburn poultry auction

Rain pelting the tin roof gives a soft-solid background
to hens muttering annoyance and cocks crowing their outrage.
All those birds, five hundred or more,
waiting to be judged, their worth determined,
to be found wanting or wanted.
And, above it all, punctuated by squeals of feedback,
the auctioneer calling:
00000who’ll start me at $40,
0000should be everywhere…
000030
0000who’ll start me at 20
000010
00005
0000Come on, who’ll start me at $5…

The air is thick and dusty with the smell of sawdust, feathers and bird shit,
overt and unavoidable,
but it is the subtle, the subconscious, scents
that cannot be ignored –
the pheromones that lace the air
twining invisibly through it as tension builds,
like a drug hidden in a drink,
trickling, then flooding, adrenaline into veins,
making the lifting of a hand inevitable…

00005 to you
000010
000015
000020…
0000That’s to you, the lady at the front… $20
0000Going once…
000025
000030
000040
000050
000050… any more?
0000going once
0000twice…
0000sold!
0000to the gentleman in the blue – number?

I have missed out this time, but next time…

———————

I love the Goulburn poultry auctions. They’ve been few and far between because of COVID, but there was one last Sunday. I went hoping to get a few cheap chooks because my girls are getting a bit long in the… ummm… beaks. I ended up bringing home a dozen birds. They wouldn’t all fit in the carrier, so I had to go get some cardboard boxes as well. And my car stank of chickens for the next few days, which is inconvenient because the driver’s window doesn’t open anymore.  Maybe next time I replace the car I’ll get a ute. 

I always get carried away at the auction – I’m not usually a competitive person, but the adrenaline that comes with someone bidding against you, even if it’s for a chicken you don’t really need, that is hard to resist. And when the serious poultry fanciers turn up their noses at a cross breed, and no one bids – that’s even harder to resist. I always feel terrible for the poor chook no one wants to give even $5 for, sitting in its cage between birds that have sold for near a hundred. 

So now I find myself with 22 birds in the coop, most of whom cost me $5 (and the three araucanas that were… well… somewhat more than that). Oh, and five chicks in a broody box in the house… oops…   

12 Comments

Filed under musings, poem

12 responses to “Goulburn poultry auction

  1. Gosh. The smell! We have 6 chooks and their little coop really is pongy at times (and then I clean it). And I love the description of the noise. I love chook noises and can just imagine that murmur with the rain. Poor things. Judged like that. Glad you rescue some of the $5 sales. Who knew there was chicken snobbery.

    • It’s like dogs, with all the weird breeds, and people wanting purebreds. I’m happy with my coop full of mongrels.
      Fortunately the chicken smell has gone from the car, but unfortunately there is a new and unpleasant smell that I can’t find the source of. Probably a kid’s lunch under a seat.

  2. I want to go to the Goulburn poultry auction!
    You must have a decent sized coop to be able to pick up that many birds in an outing.

  3. Loved the description. Made me feel like I was right there at the auction.

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