CHICKEN
Twas in Sainsburys that my lusty eyes first fell upon it.
Cold, pimpled and pink, It beckoned me from the chiller cabinet.
I plucked it from the shelf with talon like ravenous hands
Raced home like a whippet, my mind racing with cullinery plans.
I ripped off its clingfilm jacket
Tore it savagely from its polystyrene packet.
I massaged butter and garlic into its skin
Breathed in its poultry scent like it was a forbidden sin.
Popped it in the oven. Turned it on full whack.
Roasted it for an hour til its skin was crispy. Oh what a chickeny snack!
I sunk my teeth into a thigh
Involuntery let out a moan, followed by an orgasmic sigh.
It was salty, juicy, plump and hot
Golden delicious, it hit the spot.
My hunger at last satisfied for now.
What next I wonder? A sheep or a cow?
I don't know how you could be panther thin. You obviously have a serious food fetish.
ReplyDeleteFor some strange reason, I love your poems.
Jeff