the weekly poem.com

Chicken

 

I’m a chlorinated chicken

As clean as any whistle

Though perhaps you’ll start to sicken

When you nibble at my gristle

 

My squawk is antiseptic

And my skin unfit to baste

And I’m very Eurosceptic

And I have a funny taste

 

My skin is cold and pimply

My heart is hard as granite

Am I normal? Put it simply,

I am from another planet

 

My parson’s nose is pumped up

With some anti-viral muck –

I can manage you a jumped-up

If unpleasant little cluck

 

Some say my name is Fox

And some say that it is Gove

They say that I am free from pox

And ready for your stove

 

But I may make you bilious

And your gag reflex may quicken

When you eat this supercilious

And chlorinated chicken

 

 

Chicken

It was suggested that trade deals with the USA might involve the import of chlorinated chicken. Liam Fox said it was no problem. Michael Gove said it was a red line we would not cross. Why is it so hard to believe him?


27 July 2017

POETRY KIT WEBRING

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