Why Did The Chicken Refuse To Cross The Road
Spring came first and grabbed the seed
Summer blossomed in the sun
Autumn hid it all in its greed
Winter’s freeze won in the long run
There in the bushes he lay in wait
Four little chickens lost from home
Traveling toward a tragic fate
They ignored their mama and decided to roam
Down the road to easy pickings
That field of wheat was mighty tempting
To those little chicklings
A blue dress, frayed and old
Invited the offers to give her a home
With new rags to drag in the vice laced cold
Pimped and squeezed left for dead
Feeding a golden field of weeds
The bus roared past never caring
A hepped up guitarist riding its coach
Grabbed a high note like a spinning top
Caught the weed and bled himself out
To be laid stoned in a potters field
Ripe for the picking the bird flew over
Rolling black and red goose eggs
His last roll in the chamber the grim reaper
The last to cross the great divide
Couldn’t resist the yellow ride
Of Dr Jekyll, aka Mr Hyde
Golden flowers, sweet nothings and honeyed bliss
Milled her virginity in strangulation
The one in waiting
Remembering mamas words
Took no easy ride or greener pastures
He plowed and planted his golden harvest
(clarice) 05/16/2014
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