IMPURE CORN
My cousin said, "I'm hot. I'm bored."
I said, "Sure 'nuff, me too."
He said, "What could we do today?"
We had a plan to brew.
We thought and thought, our brains they buzzed,
All full of spark and spunk.
"Let's raid the still, and steal some shine
And get the chickens drunk."
The still was full, and no one there.
The wicked deed was done.
The chicken yard was calm and hot,
The hens serene as nuns.
We got some feed, and drenched it down
And spread it all around.
The hens, they pecked and clucked and ate.
The rooster gulped it down.
And then his wing was up and out,
His wheel a dizzy spin,
The hens they fell, they couldn't walk
'Twas funnier than kin.
He turned his wheel, he crowed, he danced.
His strutting made us sigh.
The hens they fought, to no avail;
We watched the feathers fly.
He jumped them all, with full cock’s comb.
Oh my, 'twas such a din.
The hens were purest Babylon,
And he was Rin Tin Tin
And then my Mom cried out in woe,
"What have you children done?"
Her basket fell, her eyes were wide
Beneath the Texas sun.
She smelled the shine, she knew at once
Exactly what we did.
She went inside the chicken coop;
'Twas where the shine was hid.
"There'll be no eggs for us this month.
You made the corn impure.
No gum for you, or peppermint,
Until these hens are cured."
My uncle wailed my cousin good,
Ma turned me on her knee.
The sight behind the woodshed
Was pitiful to see.
My cousin said, "My butt hurts."
I said, "Sure 'nuff, me too."
We rubbed our little sore behinds;
'Twas nothing else to do.
But then we grinned, recalled the chicks,
That drunken rooster, too.
My Mom called, "Kids, are you all right?"
And we could smell her roux.
We couldn't ride, we couldn't climb.
We couldn't even sit.
But weeks on end the tale was told,
And "Yes," we said, "'twas worth it.”
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