Cluck gobble, cluck chuck gobble
all that pluck and buck and wobble
all the birdlings’ flight and squabble
come on down to Malvern hovel.
Malvern farmyard–chicken barnyard
holds convention in the scarred yard.
Craters, cages, all the discard
fill the full convention courtyard.
Clucky Kleister, great foul shyster,
grand emcee and pooba meister
clucks for silence. Even Byster
stops his strutting, fears the Feister.
Wearing pinstripe like a king type
Klesiter smokes his mobster peep pipe.
Chicken gansters silent (hip-hype)
here to hear the Boss-Man’s grief gripe.
There along his beak so slightly
runs a scar to mar the sightly
visage, as his fowl-face tightly
peers about and nods politely.
So convenes the fowl convention
all the birds in rapt attention
hear the Boss Man’s grave intention:
Chicken crime–the great ascention.