Today I socialized again.
It’s becoming a bad habit…
Anyway, my friend and reader said
My opinion towards chickens is “stab it.”
I’ve written about chickens for dinner
And, yesterday, going to Hell.
All in all my poems about chickens
Do not treat them very well.
I wanted to amend my cruelty
Towards our egg-laying kin
And so I announce a contest
That upon this fine day shall begin!
Now a good contest must have a theme
And should recur on an oft-scheduled basis
And feature many a viewpoint
And not force the victor into cryogenic stasis.
My contest achieves all of these goals
And here’s what the contest is called:
The Semi-Bicentennial “Chickens Are Good”
Bad Poetry Contest That Will Not Make You Bald (Probably).
I’m seeking submissions from readers,
From other poets, artists, and guests
On the topic of the glories of chickens
And of a quality that won’t get an A on tests.
So comment your dubious poetry
About the glory of hens and of cocks.
Just comment them on this announcement
And just make sure that none of them rocks.
I look forward to reading your poems
And the chickens most likely do not
Because they’re illiterate morons.
(Now’s your chance to prove that they’re not)!
The Daily Travesty 