This forum post is hidden because you have chosen to ignore 2046642. Show Details
This forum post is hidden because you have submitted an abuse report against it. Show Details
Momma made me cook a chicken once,
That means you start with a chicken still scratching in the yard.
At least she got grandpa to wring its neck
(or maybe she did it herself)
and then cut off the head on the stump
in the yard, with a hatchet
but not all the way through --
leave it hanging by a shred of skin
(it's more gruesome that way).
Now scald it in the burning water,
holding it by its filthy feet.
And then pluck the feathers that go on forever
until you're down to skin and meat.
Then cut it open and pull out the bloody guts
and hunt for the organs that we eat.
And rip the joints apart and chop the bones
with no pretense of being neat.
See how tough your mother is
she can do what must be done.
She stands there with bloody hands
and a smile on her face
asking if you wouldn't like something to eat.
c. 1988, B. Riley
something must be wrong with me--this kind of made me hungry.