you asked for it, you got it. the chicken poem. in its original form.

Why did the chicken cross the road?

The chicken crossed the road one day
It was an ugly site
For when he got to the other side
He had a terrible fright

Forgotten was his pass
To keep him from being dinner
Maybe nobody’d eat him
If he was a little thinner

He had the perfect life
As the perfect form of poultry
He had a lot to live for,
His hen was awfully sultry

He didn’t want to be eaten for lunch
So he crossed the road again
And all the way across the road
He thought about his pregnant hen

Yes, she was due to lay some eggs
They were going to be twins
And then all of a sudden from nowhere
came a Mercedes Benz

And when that chicken saw the car
He almost had a cow
Then that lovely Mercedes symbol
Hit him right in the beak KAPOW!

And splattered all over
On route sixty-six
With his hen giving birth
To a couple of chicks

Was Charles the rooster
All silent and flat
Soon to be dinner
To a thin alley cat

So now Charles is dead
His hen all alone
While the alley cat picks
The meat off a bone

The moral of this story
To me is really quite plain
Look both ways before you cross
Or expect a buttload of pain

Like Charles the rooster
All silent and flat
Soon to be fried
For a fat lady that

Went to KFC
For an extra crispy breast
Instead she got Charles the rooster
And of course you know the rest

That fat lady went home
And sat down to her table
And so this concludes
Our noteworthy fable.

By: Spiff S. Mann
December 17, 1995

my alliteration poem for freshman year of high school.

The Big Bad Beast

Tiny Tommy Taught his teach
How to broil a big bad beast
She thought to try it out tonight
But her head the big bad beast did bite
The big bad beast bit Tommy too
But that ‘tard Tommy told the teach what to do
The big bad beast rebuked their brains
But no other people had pitiful pains

This perfect poem composed by:
Derek P. Chelf
May 1, 1996

a cooperative effort here, from like 11th or 12th grade, a mock epic poem, incorporating 20 vocab words, which are in bold. a masterpiece.

Sunny Funny Bunny Shine
(The battle of the Oil)

There was a time when all the world was fine,
Men felt good, and the women so divine.
Children were happy and pets were loyal,
Until the battle of the cooking oil.
At the Pizza Hut, on a slow, working day,
A trick on a girl, we were quick to play.
We would spray oil on the back of her pants;
Customers would give her a stare quite askance.
So out comes the oil, with sprayer-like gun,
Now she’s the victim of our machination.
We couldn’t hide it, we’re laughing so hard;
Forced to invent a fantastic canard.
“We’re not laughing at you,” I told her sweetly,
But plotting our next act quite discreetly.
Nascent suspicion creeping in her head.
“I promise we didn’t do it,” I said.
But her inuring expression rebuffed;
Boldly, rife temptation of evil cuffed.
Hop, hop, hop, hop, you luminous fellow,
Deep within, an Easter Bunny bellow.
A white façade, a natural disguise,
Piercing bloody fangs, and red beady eyes.
Situations fraught, with dangers galore,
And of this evil being, plenty more.
How could he influence our honest coup?
Our innocent plan, mixed with Hare Voodoo.
Slowly now, I heard a voice from above,
Leading, guiding, my mind, to benign love.
A penitent silence was all she heard,
Meanwhile the situation being stirred.
Easter “Judas” Bunny gives us away,
The master of evil has lots to say.
“Forgo the rest, believe intuition,
It was them, to affirm your suspicion,
And now you must act, and quickly I add.
Terminate their cabal, destroy each lad.
Start with the leader, obtuse as he is.
Kill, kill, kill, kill, defunct(ify) the wiz!”
“ Yes Master Bunny, but restive am I,
It seems rather harsh to go kill each guy.
I am loath to destroy each man’s own breath,
But I will if you say, to each slow death!”
Onward she marched toward her mighty foe,
To obey her master, and to winnow
Those who had wronged her, behind her turned back,
But as she stepped on, she saw what did lack.
Her motives were wrong, forgive, and forget,
It was all in good fun, a dare, she’d bet.
Anger retreats, as does the Vile Bunny.
For the first time, she found the prank… funny.
All’s well that ends well, as does our story.
Peace has returned, and mercy is glory
(ous).