Poetry

Why did the chicken cross the road?

‘Tis the season for seasoning chickens. Here’s a new poem about one who was determined to go out on his own terms…

WHY DID THE CHICKEN CROSS THE ROAD?

“Why did the chicken cross the road?”
the chicken farmer cried.
The clairvoyant answered:
“To get to the other side.”

“You mean – it wanted to be dead?”
the disbelieving farmer said.
“Why else with death would it have diced
if not to be a poultrygeist?”

“You mean I’m destined to be haunted
by some silly bird that sauntered
on to Highway 58
for the purpose of being late?”

“So it says,” replied the medium;
“Says its life was endless tedium.
All year cooped up in a cage –
Wouldn’t you choose highway rage?

Cluck, cluck, cluck and peck, peck, peck,
then one day they ring your neck;
What kind of a life is that ? –
better a short stroll, then… splat!

Thought this bird that it’s the ghost of:
‘Me you’ll never make a roast of;
you’ll not sell me off the shelf –
I’ll make mincemeat of myself!

Before you cook me in a pan
I’ll be some driver’s coq au van.’
“And so into its path then thundered
a Mitsubishi L300.”

“So sad to see a bird I fattened
looking so completely flattened;
Had I known it felt depressed
I’d have put its fears to rest.

I’d have brokered its release
and helped that chicken rest in peace;
It could have come and planned with me
the perfect exit strategy.

I’d have chopped its head right off it;
Sold the body for a profit
to the local KFC.
Win/win deal: RIP.”

© John Ansell 2009

Had a good time a few weeks back performing with screenwriter/comic Nick Ward at Lembas Cafe in Raumati.

On Monday 15 February, I’ll be guesting at the NZ Poetry Society monthly get-together (7.30pm upstairs at the Thistle Inn). Pencil it in and I hope to see you there.

Meantime, thanks for voting in my flag poll (more on that soon) and do all have a Merry Xmas.

It’s good to be back blogging, and I promise to keep it up. Just had a nice lunch with my blogging hero David Farrar at the Backbencher.

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