Home » Poems » Bill Baker » The Chicken Plucker

The Chicken Plucker

Dad ordered a chicken to pluck, in the end he had some bad luck. Ready for the task. He got not as ask, not a dead chicken, a live duck!

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

Jeff Connelly

Date: 10/7/2023 8:07:00 AM

Really funny Bill lol. Hit home for me personally; I had a pet duck as a kid :)

Bill Baker
Date: 10/7/2023 1:14:00 PM

Thanks Jeff, it hit me as funny too. Have a great weekend, my friend. Bill

Beryl Edmonds

Date: 10/28/2022 12:46:00 PM

The live duck was certainly in luck - He was far too resplendent to pluck - Dad put him in a pond - And the duck did respond - With a quack, quack true friendship was struck……. Belle

Bill Baker
Date: 10/28/2022 1:53:00 PM

Fun reply my friend, You finished the poem for me. :-) Write On! Bill

Valsa George

Date: 10/19/2022 8:07:00 PM

Did the duck waddle away....! Run after it and get it. It should be in the frying pan....! Hilarious, Bill

Bill Baker
Date: 10/20/2022 4:26:00 AM

Thanks, my friend. Hugs, Bill

Michelle Faulkner

Date: 10/18/2022 3:35:00 PM

I am making chicken for dinner tonight and am glad it's not a live duck, thanks for the grin :)

Bill Baker
Date: 10/18/2022 7:12:00 PM

LOL, good one, Michelle. Thanks for the comment, my friend. Bill

Sara Kendrick

Date: 10/17/2022 8:41:00 AM

Whoa!! I wonder if that duck made it and was saved by Grace or did it make it to the table. When I was young, my mother and father would get a chicken alive at the store and then have to kill, scald, pluck and then cook. Then later we lived on a farm with the same end results. I hated the scent of it, the horrible cutting of the throat, etc. I don't think I could do that, but she did. She was a strong woman. Thanks for sharing and for dropping by my blog. Sara

Bill Baker
Date: 10/17/2022 3:43:00 PM

When I was 8 or 9, I spent a week with my aunt and uncle out in the country, on their dairy farm. They also raised chickens and pigs. My aunt would go out to the chicken yard and grab one and wring its neck, then pluck it and butcher it, to fry for lunch. I didn't like any part of it. Thanks for the comment, Sara. Smiles ~ Blessings my friend. Bill