Poetic Post #9
This is Merely a Poem About a Three-Bird Roast and The Author DOES NOT Condone or Encourage Anything That Happens In It
Happy Tuesday, everyone.
I hope you’re feeling festive and not too frazzled by the long build-up to Christmas.
Speaking of which, I’m sure minds across the world are already focused on festive food, and what’s going to be served up. Turkey? Goose? Nutroast? Badger? Decisions, decisions.
Some brave (and greedy) souls may opt for that most extravagant and ostentatious of meals: the three-bird roast - which brings me nicely onto today’s poem. I hope you enjoy reading it – but, first, a warning: it’s not for the faint-hearted.
This is Merely a Poem About a Three-Bird Roast and The Author DOES NOT Condone or Encourage Anything That Happens In It
A strange old thing, the three-bird roast
(one roasted bird’s enough for most):
Inside a turkey’s stuffed a duck;
Inside the duck, a chicken’s stuck.
But then a thought occurred to me:
Why is it that we stop at three?
Why set the bar so very low?
Just where did our ambition go?
Why have we never tried out four?
Why do we never go for more?
It’s time we aimed for bigger things
(like bigger birds with bigger wings).
The only limit is the sky,
In which the birds fly free and high!
(Though not for that much longer, true:
The skies will empty, once we’re through).
Let’s put an ostrich in a kite
(It may not fit, but then…it might!),
And squeeze them both inside a stork
(just like we’d bash a bottle’s cork).
And though they’ll take up every inch,
Let’s put all three inside the finch
We stuffed inside the tiny crow
(Though how we did, I just don’t know).
We’ll put the crow inside an owl,
The owl inside a guineafowl,
The guineafowl inside a tit,
A penguin too, if it will fit.
And after that, we’ll gently shove
The tit, an emu, kestrel, dove,
And guillemot inside a swan.
The stuffing could go on and on…
Why stick to just the humble bird?
To do so would be quite absurd.
Let’s tear things up! Let’s break the rules!
Inside the swan, we’ll put some mules!
The swan will fit, with room to spare,
Inside the wolf that’s in the bear
Inside the pig, within the goat,
Inside the walrus in the stoat.
On second thoughts, this whole thing’s wrong.
It’s cruel, and creatures don’t belong
Inside a bird or bear or stoat,
or walrus, wolf or pig or goat.
It wouldn’t even be much fun.
It shouldn’t, wouldn’t, can’t be done,
Not just cos catching birds is tough:
My oven’s just not big enough.
As always, thanks for reading!
