Couplets and Rictameters and Nonsense Oh My!--National Poetry Month

I'm doing a couplet or two and a rictameter to catch up with the one I swapped for free verse the other day. If you want to know what a couplet is, go here. If you want to know what a rictameter is, go here. Otherwise, and firstly, enjoy.

FORKS
There's always a fork with a crooked tine
You show me yours and I'll show you mine

They refuse to lie in a handy stack
All carefully balanced, front to back

You can try to straighten them one and all
But into a haystack they generally fall

I finally just got o'er my OCD traits
And set them all nicely beside the plates.

(I think I'm that crooked fork.) Okay, here's my chicken rictameter:

Chickens

Pretty tasty

Dumb as a bag of hair

They wake you up every morning

But then they give you their young for breakfast

They only fly when they want to

They can die in the rain

Brother loved them

Chickens

 (Can you tell I had to take care of a whole flock of these ditsy things?)

© 2017 by H. Linn Murphy