DetailsThe poem, its numbers, and the conversation.

Yard Birds

Member since 2005 · Posted 22 Jun 2005 · 4 comments

Poetry hens cluck Roosters cock-a-doodle-doo In five syllables Spurs flying, wings Slap histrionically Other hens search the yard Scratching with vigor Uncovering choice morsels Moistened with the dung Of another bad Poet giving an eye-gouge To aspirations Of grandeur and angst Retaliation a mere Shattered ego crowing Fowl.

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mean 5.20 weighted 5.02 rank 7432 views 204 View voting details →

5 votes so far. Yours would make 6.5 votes so far

4 comments

[6] Blue Magpie 22-Jun-05/10:06 PM Reply

Foul play indeed, but let us not be chicken-hearted, I cluck that a little more punctuation might improve the flavour.

[n/a] Bankrupt_Word_Clerk › Blue Magpie 23-Jun-05/1:50 PM Reply

my carefully placed punctuation is precisely where I intended it to be. Nah, I just wrote it out in this form and didn't change a thing. haha!

[8] Dovina 23-Jun-05/6:39 PM Reply

Not so for the egg this bird will someday lay, but we all say that is some way. Peck, peck.

[10] INTRANSIT 24-Jun-05/2:20 PM Reply

Funny. And excellent. And true.