A towering rooster presides like an unwilling monarch over a teeming sea of bleached bodies, its plumage rendered in bruised blues and ember reds that sharpen the sense of feverish dominion. The composition narrows into a pyramid of flesh, converting abundance into burden, while the crimson ground—webbed with wiry lines and punctured by syringes—turns the barnyard into a clinical battlefield where nourishment, control, and contamination collapse into one image. Repetition becomes claustrophobic: each near-identical form reads as both commodity and congregation, amplifying the paradox of mass life engineered into mass vulnerability. In this saturated, oppressive light, the work speaks less about livestock than about systems—how power stands upright on what it consumes, and how care can be indistinguishable from harm.