Project: Chicken Poetry

I was invited to a night of Vogon poetry by friends Michael and Julia, and exceedingly pleased by the invitation.

I could use that, I thought. I could use some really terrible poetry.

Another of my friends, Sharon, was having a rough time with her real estate business. It involved her 90 plus year old mother and so many lawyers that she’d taken to nicknaming them. Sharon has always had a thing with chickens, featuring them prominently in her artwork. So, I conceived a plan to fill her house with the trials of chickens in modern life, in the form of poetry.

The brave souls of Michael and Julia’s Vogon Poetry party contributed many haikus, and my class of Viable Paradise XVII added additional haikus and limericks. Devin Singer and I illustrated them all, and yesterday hid them in appropriate places in Sharon’s house. When she comes home from her latest business trip, she will have a surprise.

And now, for your reading and viewing pleasure, the poetry of chickens:

Polar Vortext-brrr. Quick, buy a warm coat online! No credit for clucks.
Polar Vortext-brrr.
Quick, buy a warm coat online!
No credit for clucks.
There was a young rooster named Bob. Who was beautiful and a snob. He applied one day In a coop to lay But found laying hens was not the job!
There was a young rooster named Bob.
Who was beautiful and a snob.
He applied one day
In a coop to lay
But found laying hens was not the job!
Crop-culture warning: the immediate eggperience has passed sell-by date.
Crop-culture warning:
the immediate eggperience
has passed sell-by date.
The sky is falling!
They call me Chicken Little.
I say, “CLIMATE CHANGE.”
Bleep, Bleep, the cellphone Its battery is dying Sound like hungry chicks
Bleep, Bleep, the cellphone
Its battery is dying
Sound like hungry chicks
Stuck with these cluckas Chickenheads all around me with one cock to share
Stuck with these cluckas
Chickenheads all around me
with one cock to share
When driving down a Portland street Be slow and show respect. For my chicks and I May be strolling by As we hunt and peck.
When driving down a Portland street
Be slow and show respect.
For my chicks and I
May be strolling by
As we hunt and peck.
Feathered friend listen Silence falls when night draws near I will rub your feet
Feathered friend listen
Silence falls when night draws near
I will rub your feet
Leave a crack for light But no hole for any Fox News in the Henhouse
Leave a crack for light
But no hole for any Fox
News in the Henhouse
I fear holidays When humans slaughter my kin Except Thanksgiving Ninjas do not cluck Ninjas do not pluck feathers While leaping rooftops. I'm too fat to fly but I flap my wings daily watch for the wizard  (or Dorothy)
I fear holidays
When humans slaughter my kin
Except ThanksgivingNinjas do not cluck
Ninjas do not pluck feathers
While leaping rooftops.

I’m too fat to fly
but I flap my wings daily
watch for the wizard
(or Dorothy)

Cock Rock a Doodle Wouda shoula could do Ah, what a cock do.
Cock Rock a Doodle
Wouda shoula could do
Ah, what a cock do.
Day and Night I feel the loneliness of my coop and look upon yours
Day and Night
I feel the loneliness of my coop
and look upon yours
Goddamn I hate email Nothing but spam about getting my pecker enlarged.
Goddamn I hate email
Nothing but spam about getting
my pecker enlarged.
Hens above shit on me Chicken wire on all sides I'd kill for an omelette
Hens above shit on me
Chicken wire on all sides
I’d kill for an omelette
Drive-thru sabotage. Line up to pay for your sings, Human McNuggets.
Drive-thru sabotage.
Line up to pay for your sins,
Human McNuggets.
Cooped-up with feather brains not repeckful of the known hierarchy
Cooped-up with feather
brains not respeckful of the
known hierarchy
Knock, knock! Who's there? Chicken. Chicken who? Chicken you forgot to wash your hands and flush the toilet.
Knock, knock!
Who’s there?
Chicken.
Chicken who?
Chicken you forgot to wash your hands and flush the toilet.
There once was a chicken named Cluck Who was very hard up for a buck For a nickel a word The destitute bird Sold her fiction but not with much luck. Chickens flying high Over the fence to freedom In the yard, crickets.
There once was a chicken named Cluck
Who was very hard up for a buck
For a nickel a word
The destitute bird
Sold her fiction but not with much luck.Chickens flying high
Over the fence to freedom
In the yard, crickets.

telecommuting doesn't get the eggs laid, just makes lonely hens
telecommuting
doesn’t get the eggs laid,
just makes lonely hens
In Portland it used to be quite the thing To keep some urban hens But hipsters prowl For fresher fowl And now it's geese in pens.
In Portland it used to be quite the thing
To keep some urban hens
But hipsters prowl
For fresher fowl
And now it’s geese in pens.
Small Pen, windowless, stressed pace. Life's pecking order No time to cross road.
Small Pen, windowless,
stressed pace. Life’s pecking order
No time to cross road.
Around tribal fires I dance in circles headless Then into the pot
Around tribal fires
I dance in circles headless
Then into the pot
'Cause SIRI says so The chicken crosses the road: Beep-Bam! SIRI was wrong.
‘Cause SIRI says so
The chicken crosses the road:
Beep-Bam! SIRI was wrong.
I have sharpened my knives, I have Put on the heavy apron. Maybe you think life is chicken soup, served In blue willow-pattern bowls. I have put on my boots and opened The kitchen door and stepped out Into the sunshine. I have crossed the lawn, I have entered The hen house.
I have sharpened my knives, I have
Put on the heavy apron.
Maybe you think life is chicken soup, served
In blue willow-pattern bowls.
I have put on my boots and opened
The kitchen door and stepped out
Into the sunshine. I have crossed the lawn,
I have entered
The hen house.
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