.

And by a prudent flight and cunning save A life which valour could not, from the grave. A better buckler I can soon regain, But who can get another life again? Archilochus

Thursday, October 22, 2015

Chickens in the Coop

In the chicken coop in our side yard
When I was just a child
My siblings taught me how to cuss
It drove my mother wild

We went into the Chicken house
And climbed upon the perch
Then said some words you never heard
On Sunday while in church

We said them way too loudly
Just laughing all the while
What happened next you'll never guess
It did not make us smile

My mother yelled come in the house
For dessert we had some hope
We went in hoping for the best
Got our mouths washed out with soap

The lesson learned for me that day
Here and now I have to tell
If your mother calls when cussing
Be smart and run like hell
- Franklin Price, "In the Chicken Coop"

2 comments:

FreeThinke said...

How fondly I remember
––– the days when mothers cared
And tried till the last ember
___ died to teach that what we dared
To say in gleeful wild defiance
___ was unworthy and insulting
A bane to self-reliance
___ 'cause old Nick we were consulting.

Today, as though besotted
___ by an ancient witch's potion
Our mothers mores rotted
__ to Old Nick they've pledged devotion
And children free to shout and curse
___ and freely masturbate
Live live immeasurable worse
___ for being profligate.


~ FreeThinke

Thersites said...

Touche! :)