Forty-Two

Forty-Two

Afflicted with the Chicken Flu.

Beginning with Rubber Chicken neck chains.

All the way, down to his Holey Haines.

Needles full of Liquid Corn.

Tattooing, Foghorn Leghorn.

Stick it in deep, and whittle.

That sweet ass, Chicken Little.

Get out of the way, human skin.

Only room for Robot Chicken,

Ginger, you belong next to this mess.

No female, considered less.

Buck Cluck, wrap up around the elbow.

Make room, and stay B low.

Chicken Lady, Chicken Lady.

Chicken Lady, Chicken Lady.

Between twenty-four and now.

OH, wow, both sleeves filled somehow.

Skinny white boy, fool.

Emaciated and so uncool.

From Spanish decent, I think not.

Thinking straight up, cracker pot.

Five feet five, balding with a face, you want to kick in.

All obsessed with Cartoon Chicken.