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July 17, 2005

Sunday Writers' Workshop

A new tradition: Western writers retell the Chicken Crossing the Road joke every Sunday here at Creek Running North.

This week: Gary Snyder.

Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

Why did a big Rhode Island Red
come to wait – all stiff of gait –
on the shoulder of
highway forty-nine?

Her wings for deep fry.

Jed skinned a hen with a dull knife
washed her in Zin; she hangs, smoked, in the pantry.

Log Cabin syrup on your waffles.

I never saw a Red Cap til I found one on the road
bled it with its feet and beak still on;
it soaks in salt and water
cole slaw and pickle;

she will be a lunch for hungry fools.

The dough was apparently shot
lengthwise with flour weevils-
dumplings with tiny wings
bellies full of yeast.

Prey on the pullets. Ask them to feed us:
our Araucana's tales
of roads to bravely cross that killed them:
one side of fries

To get to the other side.

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I may be the only person I know who's enjoying this, but I can't thank you enough. You made my week.

Posted by: Tim at July 21, 2005 10:42 PM
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