• 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,