Rooster Challenge

 

                                https://pixabay.com/images/search/rooster/

Rooster Challenge

 

I sit on the wooden step. 

My teeth are clenched.

I squint my eyes, 

Looking for an opportunity.

 

The huge red rowdy rooster 

Marches guard patrol,
Bobbing his head,

Warning me to stay far away.

 

His cruel callous eyes cut almost

As sharply as his razor-sharp beak

That made me shriek

When he flew onto my face,

 

Biting and tearing my flesh apart,

Scarring my head and arms forever,

Teaching me never to meddle

In a blustering rooster’s business. 

 

But I can’t stay sitting 

On this silly splintery stoop.

I’ve got to run to the outhouse. 

I’ve really got to poop.

 

Why won’t he leave

And go into his coup

And protect the baby chicks,

So, I can get off this stoop?

 

I stare at the rusty wire fence

Surrounding his chicken domain,

Remembering that fateful morning

When I smiled happily holding 

 

A couple of baby chicks,

Who were so soft and cute,

When all of a sudden, he screamed

As he crashed and slashed into my face.

 

My legs are twitching.

My bladder is filling up.

I stand and watch and secretly beg,

“Please, go away.”

 

Wow! He shakes his wobbly wattle,

And puffs out his feathery red wings.

He lifts his head and crows

As he struts along the rows

 

Of flowers leading the way to his coup.

I have my chance.
I mustn’t wait.

I really have to poop.