Chanticleer (The Numb Priest's Tale)
June 19, 2025
Chanticleer (The Numb Priest's Tale)
He struts around the barnyard,
Cochin Rooster that he is,
Boasting of how he rules the roost,
But his miffed biddy avoids him,
While his cloying banty, yawning,
Clutches to his perch, afraid of falling.
He opens the gilded gate and allows
The waiting fox entry,
Preens his feathers and prepares
To spread his wings.
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He's borrowed his little buddy's
Catch-phrase that the sky is falling
To commence the coop that's caught fire
All around his primped out brand.
The roosters ground beneath his claws
Have all re-assembled behind his wattle
Allowing him to construct a hutch
As if condoned at total barnyard behest,
Caring not that the trail he leaves
Will be for their descendants to disinfect.
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This cockamamie mania might be well and good
If the machinery at his disposal
Wasn't broken, and weathered, and
Withered by the glare of the sun,
Leaving him without substance
Behind his crack-of-dawn crow.
The farmers are all out in the field,
Tending to the dying crop
Now that their laborers have
All been dragged off or shot.
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He thinks he bedazzles the famous fox
He's dragged to warmer climes,
But he is too busy salivating
Over the ringing of his own squawk
To hear the cur's catalog
Of better lies and feigned fawning,
Or the sounds of cash registers closing,
Not even the manure can be sold,
The farmstead's falling apart
All around his fowl friends.
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The corral with the asses lined up
To do his bidding has been overcome by parasites,
And the stench can now be snuffed
Miles far from the swamp
He so famously promised to drain
In a dream that never was.
Not a nun, nor a priest,
Nor a newly minted Pope
Can save our Chanticleer
From the ruin of a fox.

Inspiration from Aimee Mann ("That's How I Knew The Story Would Break My Heart"), Geoffery Chaucer ("The Nun's Priest's Tale"), and chickensandyou.dot com (for the picture).
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