Poet Jimmy

By Jimmy Pappas

Poet Jimmy promises
if you vote for his poems
in any poetry contest,
he intends to put
a chicken in every pot,
which means that
you will go looking in your pot
and see a chicken in there and say,
Hey, how did this chicken get in my pot?
and then you'll yell to your significant other,
Hey, Honey, did you put a chicken in our pot?
and your lover will say,
No, Lambykins, that got there
because you voted for
Poet Jimmy's poem,
and your sweetheart's use of
the epithet Lambykins means
you make mad-passionate love
on every even-numbered day of the month --
which is pretty good
depending on how old you are --
now ask yourself this question,
Is it worth selling out your poetic principles
just to get a chicken in your pot?
and those of you who said,
It depends on how good the chicken is,
gave the wrong answer,
the correct answer is No,
if for no other reason
that the anti-flatulencians
have now joined up with the
yougottabekiddingmecallingthispoetry crowd
and they will be chasing you
with burning torches
up a windmill like
Frankenstein's creature
(and you know I read a lot
because I know the difference
between the doctor and his creature),
and then don't look for help from Poet Jimmy
because he'll be long gone by then
hiding in his cellar pretending to be
Run-of-the-Mill Jimmy.

(Editor's Note: You'll meet Run-of-the-Mill Jimmy next week...)