Thursday, July 15, 2010

Quill #12 - Fried Sonnet (1978)

"The time has come," the chicken said to me,
"To use my brain, however small, it's mine,
And find a way to be where I should be,
And thereby not have dinner with the swine."

"For though you see I am a barnyard hen,
And cursed to lay my eggs within this bin,
I still have got a right to sate my yen,
And eat somewhere where manners aren't a sin."

So then I went to see my mother dear
To tell her of my friend, the chicken's, plight.
She took the hint right off, although I fear,
The chicken's hope was not the fate in sight.

The discontented poultry got its wish,
And surely made a mighty tasty dish.

(class assignment, junior year of HS)

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