I'm locked inside a tiny cell
for reasons most unfair
I've quite a story here to tell
sit back and let me share.


One time I went to a buffet
to eat a lot of food
I saw a man with hair turned gray
not in a cheery mood

Pig and cow and fish and bird
I piled upon my plate
The man gave me the evil eye
I thought I read some hate

He looked some fifty five in years
his eyes were piercing gray
I could not understand his sneers
each time he looked my way

"The pig is very good," I said
"Its something you should try."
He looked at me with utmost dread
I could not think of why

"I never eat disgusting pork,
Thinks you I am a loon?
No meat has ever touched my fork
Nor been upon my spoon."

I was aghast at what he said
it sounded full of scorn
I looked to see on what he fed,
his plate was full of corn

"You are a strange one, yes indeed
with what you choose to eat.
You mean the food on which you feed
has not an ounce of meat?"

"Sometimes in salad there's a bug
On which I have to chew
And I must eat it with a shrug,
What else is there to do?

But you're a nasty carnivore
My young bloodthirsty friend
The death of critters I abhor
Their murders just won't end

I see your life will not be long
By what's upon your dish
Your health you cannot much prolong
With steak, pork, foul, and fish!"

"You mean I'll live a long, long time
eating rabbit food like you?"
"Quite true young man, you see that I'm
One hundred fifty-two."

I hid my shock at what he said
I'm sure it was no lie
If decades would not make him dead
I knew I'd make him die

I grinned and said in tones untrue
"You do not quite appear
much older than one hundred-two
not by a single year."

The old man smiled back at me,
I knew he couldn't live
I own a chicken factory
and had a good motive

To cause his death and make him rot,
but then I looked around
I wished to kill him on the spot
but witnesses abound

"Meat is wicked," he'd go and tell
to everyone he could
And then my chicken wouldn't sell
and that just isn't good

With practiced grace and mustered charm
I looked into his eyes
And asked him to come see my farm,
its greatness to surmise

"You simply cannot judge all meat
and say that its all bad
so if you come down to my street
I'd sure be awful glad.

You see I own some chickens there
who live a grand old life
I pay each chicken special care
before it meets my knife."

"You don't understand my meaning
Of why it isn't good
You see killing is demeaning
Earth's creature's are not food!"

"Look sir, I've got a knife on you,
be silent and be still
Do whatever I tell you to
or I will have to kill"

The man looked up at me in shock,
I showed no kidding smile
I wanted him to meet my flock
and stand a slander trial

I knew I'd be the one to take
his great old age away
It was my hopeful plan to make
this vegetarian pay

We headed to my factory
and there I sat on him
In vain he struggled to be free
I cut each flailing limb

"Why are you doing this you brute?"
He cried with pain-filled tears
"You are an old and crazy coot
who's lived too many years.

I do not want to wind up broke
and end up in the street
When people learn that they can croak
from eating tasty meat.

So I will shut you up for good
and chop you very small
Then all my pretty chickens would
have a yummy free for all.

These birds you may refuse to eat,
but they will relish you
They love the sight of fresh warm meat,
with blood it makes a stew."

With that I cut his scrawny neck
his head rolled on the ground
The birds began to cluck and peck
and feathers flew around

In little time they ate him down
and I was very glad .
But the old man had friends in town
who'd seen him at my pad


Police went to my chicken coop
and found his DNA
when they examined chicken poop
that's why I'm here today.

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