Meanwhile, Back At the Chicken Coop
I read the news today, oh boy
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,
The fox in is charge of the hen house
Gates are secure but the creature is inside
Feathers fly in helter skelter patterns
“You’ve got to crack a few eggs” is heard
as those who see the commotion, scramble
A dozen or so duck the falling shells,
raining down from straw filled verses,
bland but obviously first in the pecking order,
hoping it all would be over…easy
While over on Broadway a church mouse sings off key
to a blindfolded audience
waiting to applaud until the curtain goes down,
so not to be seen greeting late arrivals
with luggage and tickets
hoping the next show is not sold out
for this standing room only presentation
Fortunately three, maybe four seats still remain unoccupied
as stale nachos and sticky floors beckon
The lights go down and the band strikes up
a rousing intro to what should be a good show,
at least that’s what the old reviews said,
“It was 20 years ago today,
4 stars, brilliantly directed, the best choice
for your daily intake of long haired culture…”
When a tuxedo with a smile and a black carnation
makes its way to center stage
and begins reading backwards,
“I buried Paul”
Boos ring out from the crowd.
“We came here for poetry!” was shouted in unison
But it just kept on, “Number 9, number 9, number 9”
The audience ran for the exit doors (stage left)
and as they hit the streets looking for something better
they encountered a walrus
wearing a sandwich board sign the read,
“Turn me on dead man”
Meanwhile, back at the chicken coop…
Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment