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

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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?