The Ballad of Carl and Ab
And the Chicken Accelerator
It was the summer of nineteen and eighty-five,
At the tender age of twelve life was just coming alive.
I looked forward to the summer down on the farm,
With my Aunt and Uncle, to keep me from harm.
Ab had a friend that made it his home,
His name was Carl and he came all alone.
He had a dislike for kids, and I was at hand,
I did not call him Carl I just called him the man.
All went well for a short length of time,
The man did his thing and I did mine.
All was at peace they were fun filled glorious days,
I romped through the hills in the suns morning rays.
Everything changed at supper one night,
The talk turned to science and the wonders of flight.
Ab offered thoughts on what had the ability to fly,
The man gave a wink and said it was a bold faced lie.
They started to name all creatures of the air,
They went through each with considerable care.
Ab said design was what sent them on high,
The man allowed speed was what made them to fly.
Then a dispute arose between the two,
As to why a barn yard chicken never flew.
They decided to put it all to a test,
And I would be part of this elaborate quest.
On the following morning the sun rose brilliant and bright
Uncle Ab was gathering equipment; the man was not in sight.
They had worked out the details over a jug of old hoot,
The man suddenly appears with a chicken and a boot.
I knew not to question nor ask the reason why,
But with a jug of old hoot, more than the chicken would fly.
They did not seem to care as they worked through the day,
With that jug of old hoot even the flies would not stay.
As the day wore on they decided to call it a night,
They took their selected chicken and locked him up tight.
They laughed and snickered as they emptied the jug,
Filled with old hoot they even managed a hug.
The next day come and they were at it again,
I asked them if I should get them the jug from the bin.
They did not reply for a moment or two,
They both looked like they had a case of the flu.
Finally the man made a slow quivering reply,
No not now we have a chicken to fly.
His face was all wrinkly and pinched real tight,
I could tell by the smell it had been a tough night.
They worked at it steady for most of the day,
They looked real pale and had little to say.
The man swung the hammer a mighty big blow,
It glanced off his thumb and smashed his big toe.
He grabbed his thumb and squealed like a pig,
Then he impressed us all with a one footed jig.
He calmed down a might but his language was sharp,
I told him that was no way to be getting his harp.
His face got all red and he called me a bad name,
I backed away slowly and called him the same.
Uncle Ab’s head come up as he looked my way,
I took off to the house there was no reason to stay.
I thought I would get it when they finally come in,
But my luck was holding for they stopped by the bin.
We all sat at supper and started to eat,
I felt uneasy and squirmed in my seat.
Aunt Martha asked, are you alright sweet child,
I thought the man would go completely wild.
His face redden up as he swallowed his food,
As my courage came back I showed him my mood.
I asked my aunt what that bad word meant,
The answer she gave was just heaven sent.
Only a fool and a moron would use a word so vial,
I looked at the man and taunted him with a smile.
After the meal and we all settled down,
The man said thanks and headed to town.
The day wound down and so did I,
I went to bed wondering if a chicken could fly.
The day started early we were up with the sun,
They headed to the project, the chores were all done.
The man was all smiley he gave me no grief,
I pitched in to help with a sigh of relief.
The day wore on with the passing sun,
And they finally announced the project done.
Uncle Ab and the man, they smiled with pride,
They stood around where the chicken would ride.
I looked at the thing just scratching my head,
It’s a chicken accelerator is what they both said.
Uncle Ab explained to me just how it would work,
The whole thing would start with a mighty big jerk.
They took an old car that ran real smooth,
They set it on blocks so she could not move.
They took off the tires and laid them aside,
They attached a pulley where a belt would ride.
The belt drove a small pulley with incredible speed,
The pulley had spool that rope into it would feed.
The rope went to a pulley down by the lake,
And worked its way back to the boot anchored stake.
The pull rope was attached to the boot real strong,
The anchor rope to the stake was only so long.
With chicken in boot, they were shot into the sky,
The boot stopped short out the chicken would fly.
The whole thing seemed very reasonable at best,
Tomorrow was the day we would give her the test.
After the meal we gathered on the porch swing,
Anticipating just what tomorrow would bring.
The chores were all done as the sun was high,
We were at the accelerator with the chicken to fly.
Uncle Ab’s job was to take notes down by the lake,
The job of the man was chicken and boot at the stake.
They put me in the driver’s seat of that old car,
Without any wheels they new I wouldn’t get far.
They showed me the peddles, gear shift and clutch,
They showed me how to start her and run her and such.
They told me first gear was plenty we’ll need no more,
At the signal, pop the clutch and throttle to the floor.
All was now ready, everyone took their place,
I was playing in the car like I was in a big race.
I finally quit playing around and looking up in the sky,
What I didn’t realize then instead of first I had her in high.
The man and the chicken weren’t doing so well,
If he was throwing a sign it was sure hard to tell.
I watched the man close I didn’t want him to get sore,
I thought I saw the sign so punched her to the floor.
The roar of the engine she sounded like a jet,
The front of the man’s pants started to get wet.
They were all tangled up as they shot into the air,
The chicken trying to get in the boot through the man’s hair.
As they passed by so close I tried to behave,
I just smiled politely and gave them a wave.
The eyes of the man were filled with despair,
A frozen moment as to ask why he was there.
The chicken also was just looking for why,
As the man and chicken disappeared in the sky.
I was able to move quickly and watch their flight,
The chicken and the man held each other tight.
The screeching and wailing seemed to fill the air,
But they reached the lake with distance to spare.
They hit the water with amazing speed,
I laughed so hard that I nearly peed.
Because on impact a watery cloud arose,
Filled with feathers and pieces of the man’s clothes.
They first hit the water then cart wheeled high,
I could hear the screeching chicken above the man’s cry.
The chicken came lose from the force of the blow,
The clawing man was able to soon regain control.
At the second impact their bodies were hurled high,
The half clothed man and naked chicken trying to fly.
His wings were churning trying to grasp the air,
While the man’s flapping arms were pitiful to compare.
As they descended to the water with incredible force,
The chicken was a jockey the man was a horse.
As they went beneath the surface then squirted on out,
The man became the jockey and the chicken the mount.
As he skidded and bounded with athletic grace,
Sometimes on his butt then sometimes on his face.
With arms flailing and muttering horrible sounds,
Chicken and man embraced before hitting the ground.
As they rolled and rolled to the other side,
Minus not just a few feathers and a little hide.
They tumbled and tumbled and finally came to rest,
The lonely man with a chicken stuck to his chest.
As they gathered themselves up from the tangled debris,
First the man arose and then the chicken came free.
There they stood all wet in a sad and forlorn pose,
A naked chicken shivering and the man with no clothes.
As we got them back safely to the opposite shore,
The chicken was disoriented the man was just sore.
The chicken walked with a twitch in his gate,
The man looked at me with eyes full of hate.
Just before a terrible ruckus arose,
Uncle Ab arrived with an arm full of cloths.
The chicken just staggered to the barn in distress,
While the man wobbled around and continued to dress.
As we stood there in silence just wondering why,
Uncle Ab burst into laughter as tears filled his eye.
I backed away quickly to get out of sight,
I ran for the mediator with all of my might.
The mans face was all red as he put on his boot,
I come running back in time with a jug of old hoot.
They looked at the jug and then at the ground,
I new inside that they soon would pass it around.
They mellow out nicely though they slobbered a tad,
They soon were all happy rejoicing and glad.
I watched in awe as they keep passing the jug,
It would soon be to the point of generating a hug.
All is quiet as time has passed by,
There is no mention if a chicken can fly.
The man is very quite, moody at best,
Uncle Ab has decided to give it a rest.
As for the chicken his twitch has gone away,
He walks to the barn and no longer will sway.
I saw him one day looking up in the sky,
No longer wondering if a chicken could fly.
And the Chicken Accelerator
It was the summer of nineteen and eighty-five,
At the tender age of twelve life was just coming alive.
I looked forward to the summer down on the farm,
With my Aunt and Uncle, to keep me from harm.
Ab had a friend that made it his home,
His name was Carl and he came all alone.
He had a dislike for kids, and I was at hand,
I did not call him Carl I just called him the man.
All went well for a short length of time,
The man did his thing and I did mine.
All was at peace they were fun filled glorious days,
I romped through the hills in the suns morning rays.
Everything changed at supper one night,
The talk turned to science and the wonders of flight.
Ab offered thoughts on what had the ability to fly,
The man gave a wink and said it was a bold faced lie.
They started to name all creatures of the air,
They went through each with considerable care.
Ab said design was what sent them on high,
The man allowed speed was what made them to fly.
Then a dispute arose between the two,
As to why a barn yard chicken never flew.
They decided to put it all to a test,
And I would be part of this elaborate quest.
On the following morning the sun rose brilliant and bright
Uncle Ab was gathering equipment; the man was not in sight.
They had worked out the details over a jug of old hoot,
The man suddenly appears with a chicken and a boot.
I knew not to question nor ask the reason why,
But with a jug of old hoot, more than the chicken would fly.
They did not seem to care as they worked through the day,
With that jug of old hoot even the flies would not stay.
As the day wore on they decided to call it a night,
They took their selected chicken and locked him up tight.
They laughed and snickered as they emptied the jug,
Filled with old hoot they even managed a hug.
The next day come and they were at it again,
I asked them if I should get them the jug from the bin.
They did not reply for a moment or two,
They both looked like they had a case of the flu.
Finally the man made a slow quivering reply,
No not now we have a chicken to fly.
His face was all wrinkly and pinched real tight,
I could tell by the smell it had been a tough night.
They worked at it steady for most of the day,
They looked real pale and had little to say.
The man swung the hammer a mighty big blow,
It glanced off his thumb and smashed his big toe.
He grabbed his thumb and squealed like a pig,
Then he impressed us all with a one footed jig.
He calmed down a might but his language was sharp,
I told him that was no way to be getting his harp.
His face got all red and he called me a bad name,
I backed away slowly and called him the same.
Uncle Ab’s head come up as he looked my way,
I took off to the house there was no reason to stay.
I thought I would get it when they finally come in,
But my luck was holding for they stopped by the bin.
We all sat at supper and started to eat,
I felt uneasy and squirmed in my seat.
Aunt Martha asked, are you alright sweet child,
I thought the man would go completely wild.
His face redden up as he swallowed his food,
As my courage came back I showed him my mood.
I asked my aunt what that bad word meant,
The answer she gave was just heaven sent.
Only a fool and a moron would use a word so vial,
I looked at the man and taunted him with a smile.
After the meal and we all settled down,
The man said thanks and headed to town.
The day wound down and so did I,
I went to bed wondering if a chicken could fly.
The day started early we were up with the sun,
They headed to the project, the chores were all done.
The man was all smiley he gave me no grief,
I pitched in to help with a sigh of relief.
The day wore on with the passing sun,
And they finally announced the project done.
Uncle Ab and the man, they smiled with pride,
They stood around where the chicken would ride.
I looked at the thing just scratching my head,
It’s a chicken accelerator is what they both said.
Uncle Ab explained to me just how it would work,
The whole thing would start with a mighty big jerk.
They took an old car that ran real smooth,
They set it on blocks so she could not move.
They took off the tires and laid them aside,
They attached a pulley where a belt would ride.
The belt drove a small pulley with incredible speed,
The pulley had spool that rope into it would feed.
The rope went to a pulley down by the lake,
And worked its way back to the boot anchored stake.
The pull rope was attached to the boot real strong,
The anchor rope to the stake was only so long.
With chicken in boot, they were shot into the sky,
The boot stopped short out the chicken would fly.
The whole thing seemed very reasonable at best,
Tomorrow was the day we would give her the test.
After the meal we gathered on the porch swing,
Anticipating just what tomorrow would bring.
The chores were all done as the sun was high,
We were at the accelerator with the chicken to fly.
Uncle Ab’s job was to take notes down by the lake,
The job of the man was chicken and boot at the stake.
They put me in the driver’s seat of that old car,
Without any wheels they new I wouldn’t get far.
They showed me the peddles, gear shift and clutch,
They showed me how to start her and run her and such.
They told me first gear was plenty we’ll need no more,
At the signal, pop the clutch and throttle to the floor.
All was now ready, everyone took their place,
I was playing in the car like I was in a big race.
I finally quit playing around and looking up in the sky,
What I didn’t realize then instead of first I had her in high.
The man and the chicken weren’t doing so well,
If he was throwing a sign it was sure hard to tell.
I watched the man close I didn’t want him to get sore,
I thought I saw the sign so punched her to the floor.
The roar of the engine she sounded like a jet,
The front of the man’s pants started to get wet.
They were all tangled up as they shot into the air,
The chicken trying to get in the boot through the man’s hair.
As they passed by so close I tried to behave,
I just smiled politely and gave them a wave.
The eyes of the man were filled with despair,
A frozen moment as to ask why he was there.
The chicken also was just looking for why,
As the man and chicken disappeared in the sky.
I was able to move quickly and watch their flight,
The chicken and the man held each other tight.
The screeching and wailing seemed to fill the air,
But they reached the lake with distance to spare.
They hit the water with amazing speed,
I laughed so hard that I nearly peed.
Because on impact a watery cloud arose,
Filled with feathers and pieces of the man’s clothes.
They first hit the water then cart wheeled high,
I could hear the screeching chicken above the man’s cry.
The chicken came lose from the force of the blow,
The clawing man was able to soon regain control.
At the second impact their bodies were hurled high,
The half clothed man and naked chicken trying to fly.
His wings were churning trying to grasp the air,
While the man’s flapping arms were pitiful to compare.
As they descended to the water with incredible force,
The chicken was a jockey the man was a horse.
As they went beneath the surface then squirted on out,
The man became the jockey and the chicken the mount.
As he skidded and bounded with athletic grace,
Sometimes on his butt then sometimes on his face.
With arms flailing and muttering horrible sounds,
Chicken and man embraced before hitting the ground.
As they rolled and rolled to the other side,
Minus not just a few feathers and a little hide.
They tumbled and tumbled and finally came to rest,
The lonely man with a chicken stuck to his chest.
As they gathered themselves up from the tangled debris,
First the man arose and then the chicken came free.
There they stood all wet in a sad and forlorn pose,
A naked chicken shivering and the man with no clothes.
As we got them back safely to the opposite shore,
The chicken was disoriented the man was just sore.
The chicken walked with a twitch in his gate,
The man looked at me with eyes full of hate.
Just before a terrible ruckus arose,
Uncle Ab arrived with an arm full of cloths.
The chicken just staggered to the barn in distress,
While the man wobbled around and continued to dress.
As we stood there in silence just wondering why,
Uncle Ab burst into laughter as tears filled his eye.
I backed away quickly to get out of sight,
I ran for the mediator with all of my might.
The mans face was all red as he put on his boot,
I come running back in time with a jug of old hoot.
They looked at the jug and then at the ground,
I new inside that they soon would pass it around.
They mellow out nicely though they slobbered a tad,
They soon were all happy rejoicing and glad.
I watched in awe as they keep passing the jug,
It would soon be to the point of generating a hug.
All is quiet as time has passed by,
There is no mention if a chicken can fly.
The man is very quite, moody at best,
Uncle Ab has decided to give it a rest.
As for the chicken his twitch has gone away,
He walks to the barn and no longer will sway.
I saw him one day looking up in the sky,
No longer wondering if a chicken could fly.
I hope you enjoyed this piece and it lightens your load just a tad.
Sleep save, sleep sound my friend.
For all is well down on the farm.
The Old Farmer
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