THE BALLAD OF THE BOSSY OLD HEN

We first conceived of this work when we offered our novel "The Peterson Investigation" for free to members of our high school alumni Facebook page and some hoity-toity bitch objected.  

The other day a fellow alum announced that his brother had committed suicide by gunshot, and that the gun did not have the blame. He was immediately set upon by a similar collection of hoity-toity bitches who pestered the Memorial page for our school to delete his post.  Herewith I offer my opinion of these toxic bossy women:

THE BALLAD OF THE BOSSY OLD HEN

Once there was a bossy old hen

Who thought she was Queen of the Coop;

She ruled beneath the benevolent gaze

Of the Farmer, who sat on his stoop.

A terror she was to all who dared 

violate her bounds of propriety

She demanded that all pay obeisance to

her standards of chicken sobriety.

One day she espied the new Rooster hitting on

Four hens, all comely and young. 

In outrage she began to tut and to cluck,

Then finally unlimbered her tongue.

"Why this is an outrage!" the old hen cajoled,

"These youngsters are your own daughters!

You sired them only one year ago,

This must be a criminal matter!"

"Shut up, you old biddy!" the Rooster replied;

"Making lots of new chicks is what I do;

And when they get old enough I make new chicks with them;

Now what are you supposed to do?"

"Your job's laying eggs, which you haven't in months;

I'm much more productive than you;

Hark! Here comes the Farmer, his axe in his hand;

Prepare to become chicken stew!

The farmer made stew of the Bossy Old Hen

With an old recipe from down south;  

but with the first bite he grimaced, spat and said:

"This hen leaves a bad taste in my mouth!"