• Written by Jayne Luy

Cluck the Plucked and the Tale of the Gruesome Graspers

A truly fearless chicken

Is no common sort of bird.

A chicken’s not a hunter

It can’t fly! Or so I’ve heard

And chickens go in circles.

On the loose, they’ll never flee

'Cause they don’t think beyond their beak!

Their brain is like a pea!

But they’ve a secret weapon! It’s not their smell, or squawk. These birds have secret armor!

It’s not their pecks, or bocks.

Have you seen a chicken’s fingers?

Could you sleep at all that night?

They’re truly terrible objects!

They’d fill a shark with fright!

I’ve seen those gruesome graspers

Just once, in all my days

But that was all I needed

To learn of Chicken Ways.

The story goes like this, my friend.

It started with the flu.

My nose was red, my fever high

And soup would help, I knew.

Well, I could hardly walk, you know?

I pretty much just crawled.

I slinked down to the freezer

So sick, I nearly bawled

But chicken noodle soup was near!

Noodles, garlic, salt....

And now I had a chicken!

(Here comes the Farmer’s fault....)


It wiggled, just a tad...

But when you buy a packaged bird

Would you EVER think it's MAD?

That chicken came out wrestling!

That’s when I saw its Paws!

I’d only wanted soup and sleep...

Instead, I got those Claws!

One grabbed my red and dripping nose!

The other grabbed my beard!

Well, I was caught! And so I learned,


I heard these words: ‘I’m Cluck, good sir. And this is NOT your day.

You see, I’ve planned, since I was young,

To not ‘go out’ this way.

‘Born to be much more than soup’

As mother used to bock

Though other chickens heard and laughed,

I never dared to mock

You see now sir, though I’ve been plucked,

You really shouldn’t grin.

I am cold, but I’m alive.

And sir, I’ve got your chin.

A shirt is what I need. And pants.

If you’d just have the grace...

And when that boiling pot has cooled

I’ll give you back your face.’

In a flash, the stove was off!

You should have seen me race!

We waited for that pot to cool,

Then Cluck called off the chase

Unhooked his twitchy, scaly claws

From chin, and nose, and beard

Still fearsome with that dimply skin

Remember, Cluck was sheared...

I ran to fetch the needed clothes,

And faster than a flash,

I loaded up that naked bird

With socks, and jewels, and cash!

I never heard a ‘thank-you’!

I never heard a ‘please’!

I only heard my blubbering

And the shaking of my knees

 ‘I’ll never eat a bird again!

Not battered, baked, or fried!

No chicken soup or chicken pie!

Not fresh, not even dried!

You’ll always have a friend in me!

Just take your claws away!

You see that door? The world’s out there!

Dear Cluck, this is Your Day!’

I cried so much that Cluck teared up,

While putting on his pants.

He took his cash and skittered out

I saw those stick-feet dance...

And I’ve had nightmares ever since!

I can’t eat eggs or fish...

I’m scared they’ll come to life and talk!

Or get up from the dish!

So now I’m skinny, and I’m poor,

I’m sleepless, but I’m safe.

Cluck might have my pants and socks,

But I still have my face!

Cluck the Plucked Colouring Pack
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