by Godiva

with apologies to Sergeant Joyce Kilmer


I think that I shall never eat

A chicken leg that's half so sweet.


Or when my hungry mouth is press'd

Against the chicken's white meat breast;


A thigh that looks to be half chewed,

When appetite has been accrued;


A wing that may in Summer's heat

Be barbecued in manner neat;


Upon a dinner plate it lies;

While Caspian's concerned with flies.


Poems are made for fools to read,

Please pass the beer (or ale or mead.)


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