Chicken Every Sunday [New] (36 line poem)

Larry’s secret autobiography

So, to explain – there has been an ongoing joke among my siblings that my brother Larry wrote an ‘autobiography’ about my mom serving chicken every Sunday (which she did). Weirdly, there is an actual book titled ‘Chicken Every Sunday’ where one of my siblings subbed in Larry’s name.

We talked about it on a video call, so I felt compelled to write ‘the story’, but ended up with this poem – which I shared with my siblings. Each verse captures something from our childhood lives in West Virginia


May we have some frozen carrots?
May we have some frozen peas?
May we have some
chicken chicken
every every
Sunday, please?

Running barefoot down the alley,
Dust and oil up to our knees.
May we have some
chicken chicken
every every
Sunday, please?

Paint the house pink every summer.
Paint the bottoms of the trees.
May we have some
chicken chicken
every every
Sunday, please?

Bluegill fishing at Westvaco —
Catch one? There’re no guarantees.
May we have some
chicken chicken
every every
Sunday, please?

Find a horse and bring it back home
In the 1970s.
May we have some
chicken chicken
every every
Sunday, please?

Garage sleeping — we all did it.
Breezeway always brought the breeze.
May we have some
chicken chicken
every every
Sunday, please?

Sabotage [Classic] (1200 word story)

From my youth. I’m convinced one of my siblings ‘wrapped up’ this story for me. There is some handwriting that isn’t mine — plus an abrupt, typed, silly ending. I’ve therefore titled this post ‘Sabotage’.


The four young brothers stared solemnly at each other across the heavy oaken table. They were two sets of twins, born less than a year apart. Meredith was the oldest of the four, older than his twin Evan by a few minutes. This appeared to be the case for Meredith was the only one of the four to have a beard, made even more striking by its coloring, the blackest of blacks. This beard in no way made him appear sinister — for the innocent blue of his eyes and the light color of his skin made him seem an angel or a shepherd boy — in spite of his serious mouth. Evan had curly red hair, far-set green eyes, and a laughing face. He was the largest of the four as was Meredith the smallest. The younger set of twins, Lionel and Randal, looked very much the same with their solid build, sandy-blond hair, and deep brown eyes. It was not uncommon for even old acquaintances to confuse the identities of the two. The younger twins were thought of more as “The Twins” than their older brothers who, though bearing a notable family resemblance, seemed to look nothing alike when compared to their brothers’ similarity.

All four brothers appeared younger than their years, though all were remarkably athletic; each far outshining his peers in swordsmanship and horsemanship. There seemed no end to their ability to master the skills of war as well as the incredible feats of acrobatics displayed by the traveling troops that visit the kingdom every few years.

They were handsome young men and seemed to be the sons of some god. They did, in fact, have noble blood — for their father was the beloved brother of the king, and their mother possibly the most beautiful woman in the whole kingdom which, in itself, covered hundreds of square miles. They had grown to manhood in the royal castle — a sprawling building of white marble — and it was in an upper room in the castle that they discussed the recent disappearance of their beautiful mother.

“Now, who was the last to see her?” Meredith, taking natural charge.

“A kitchen girl saw her walking in the garden shortly after midday, and no one remembers seeing her after that.” This was Randal disclosing the findings of their afternoon search. “It would seem that she must have wandered off into the forest.”

“Then what are we doing here?” demanded Evan, already rising from his chair — willing to search the forest on his own.

“Calm down,” ordered Meredith, “Evan, always acting without thinking. That will get you into trouble someday.” This remark brought smiles from the twins and a mild look of warning from Evan as he reseated himself.

“We have to plan our course of action,” continued Meredith. “It would be dark by the time we got a search party organized — and besides, she may yet be in the castle even though our search showed nothing. She has enough sense to return to the castle at dusk.”

“Unless she’s hurt,” commented Randal. 

“Or abducted,” added Lionel, the more fanciful of the two.

“She may have grown tired and fallen asleep in one of the unoccupied lower sleeping chambers,” remarked Evan.

“Well, we’ll soon know — because the king should have completed a more thorough search of the castle any moment now,” stated Merdith.

Just then, a messenger burst into the room, in his haste forgetting to knock. “Your mother is not in the castle. The king is organizing a search party now, and he wishes…” The messenger was nearly knocked over as the four brothers rushed from the room.


They were met by their father and the king in the hall outside the council chamber. Both looked glum. It was the king who was first to speak.

“I want to tell you boys that this search is merely perfunctory. One of the gardeners saw your mother carried and taken off by a dragon and taken east.”

“Desmond!” exclaimed the twins in unison, naming the evil wizard whose castle was in the thickest part of the Eastern Forest.

“Exactly,” agreed the king, “the search of the nearby forest is only a precaution — but we have no better explanation for your mother’s disappearance.”

“You are old enough to decide for yourselves what you want to do.” their father told them.

Evan turned to the twins, “See to getting our horses saddled and provisioned. We’ll need…”

“It’s already been taken care of,” their father told them with a smile, “you may leave at once.”

After short thank-you’s and good-bye’s, the boys raced toward the stables.


After a full day of hard riding, the brothers found themselves at Desmond’s black castle at nightfall. They left the horses to forage for grass among the thorny underbrush, and abandoned the cover of the forest to approach the castle. The castle was tall and black, overgrown with ivy, and surrounded by a broad, murky moat in which occasional dark forms could be glimpsed. There was no drawbridge, nor any openings in the castle walls for twenty- five feet above the ground.

“First obstacle, the moat.” said Meredith as he tossed a stick out into the moat. As soon as the stick hit the water, there was a frenzied turmoil that increased until suddenly the commotion stopped and the stick was nowhere to be seen.

“Wow.” said Evan.

“Maybe we could fell a tree to act as a bridge.” again Evan.

Meredith replied, “It would take a day to cut down a tree large enough to span the moat — even if we had the proper tools.”

“We could jump.” commented Lionel, “Around the back of the castle to the left the moat’s not more than fifteen feet wide. We’ve all jumped more than that in practice.”

“We’ll just fling our swords across first to make it easier.” urged Randal.

Meredith considered, “It seems that we don’t have much choice.” So they started toward the left side of the castle.


After they had reached the narrow part of the moat, Meredith had them line up single file about ten feet from the launching point.

“We will all jump at the same time so if one falls in mid-air, we can catch him.”

All four brothers ran to the edge but, at the last moment, Meredith — who had been the last in line — tripped, toppling all four into the moat. There was a great disturbance in the water until all was finally still.

The last thing heard was the word “wow” as four heavenly bodies ascended to the sky.


The king, and his brother — who was the four brothers’ father, and the four brothers’ mother’s husband — committed harakiri and died.


Deep in the heart of the castle, the mother of the four brothers screamed and kicked as the evil dragon breathed hot breath on her. His looming face came closer and again she screamed.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” she said as the huge lizard made her hair catch on fire.

Just then the evil Desmond entered the room and called the dragon away from her. He approached the woman and proceeded to slit open her throat with his long sharp fingernail. The blood gushed in slow motion, “PSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHH”.

“That will teach your meddling youngans,” he mumbled as he walked away to end the story.

Brain M [Classic] (400 word story)

Another very silly story (hopefully) written when I was quite young — probably around the same time as this other silly one.


The alien glanced about hastily. He couldn’t help feeling a little paranoid. After all, this was the first contact with this race and, as with all dealings with unknown races, no weaponry was permitted.

He had arrived shortly before sunrise, alone in a shuttlecraft that he had hidden in the treacherous crags of some mountains a few miles to the west. He then began hiking his way toward this settlement — which was in the foothills of another nearby range of mountains. About three miles from the village, he had been spotted by a band of hunters from the village — who had immediately lost interest in the hunt, and had gathered around him and examined him with curiosity. He was somewhat relieved at having been discovered — because, unarmed, he had little doubt that some of the local fauna could make short work of him.

He had a small knowledge of the local language, and got the idea from their conversation among themselves that they were taking him to someone named ‘Brain M’ — obviously some local intellect or philosopher who acted as a lawmaker. They had neglected to speak to him — possibly thinking that he could not understand. He then decided to keep quiet, and keep whatever advantage this secret knowledge would give him — however slight.

He had been taught to accept any strange appearance that another race may present, yet he found these beings somewhat repulsive, nonetheless — and they, undoubtedly, found him so also.

So he had been politely escorted to the village, and now found himself outside the abode of this ‘Brain M’. The men escorted him in, and he was mildly surprised to discover that this Brain M was a butcher — who was in the middle of cleaning and cutting up some small animal, and did not look up until he was done. It did make some sense that this person was a butcher — because it was entirely common for a leader to be some man of everyday importance in cultures of this technology.

Brain M walked toward the alien, absently carrying the heavy implement he had been using on the animal. They smiled at each other, and the alien’s guards stepped back — allowing room for the anticipated meeting. Time froze for an instant, as the first momentous meeting of the two races took place.

The men cried in unison, “Brain Em!” and the butcher’s tool came crashing down.

Then blackness.