Poem -

The Man Who Ate Raw Chicken

The Man Who Ate Raw Chicken

Must have been before someone discovered fire - no, now!
Don't know how he can do it, kidneys and offal - wow!
Even if in advance of eating, he gives it a jolly good wipe,
but all too much for me - just sounds like a load of tripe.

Perhaps he just fancies himself rather a cut above the rest,
personally I'd prefer some female rather than chicken breast;
I suppose an unroast joint may be be good on a sunday,
followed by the undone leftovers on the following monday.

Once I had a secret 'heart' that beat within the side of me,
although streaky felt like a swine right beneath my dignity;
when it came to chops, I couldn't get my mouth around them,
aftter all, bites were always brief with closure not coming again.

One day he forgot and put over the barbecue with no fire,
'Are you really enjoying that - come on now, you're a liar!' 

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Nine Eleven

People will do anything for their 5 minutes.

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