IMPURE CORN 

My cousin said, "I'm hot. I'm bored." 
I said, "Sure 'nuff, me too." 
He said, "What could we do today?" 
A plan we had to brew. 

We thought and thought, our brains they buzzed 
Two children full of spunk 
"Let's raid the still, and steal some shine 
And get the chickens drunk." 

The still was full, with no one there 
The wicked deed was done 
The chicken yard was calm and hot 
The hens serene as nuns. 

We got some feed, and drenched it down 
And spread it all around. 
The hens, they ate, and clucked, and ate 
The rooster gulped it down. 

The rooster's wing was up and out 
His wheel outrageous sin 
The hens they fell, they couldn't walk 
'Twas funnier than kin. 

He turned his wheel, he pecked, he danced 
His strutting made us sigh 
The hens they fought, to no avail 
We watched the feathers fly. 

He jumped them all with full red comb 
Oh my, 'twas such a din 
The hens were purest Babylon 
And he was Rin Tin Tin. 

And then my Mom cried out in woe 
"What have you children done?" 
Her basket fell, her eyes were wide 
Beneath the Texas sun. 

She smelled the shine, she knew at once 
Exactly what we did. 
She went inside the chicken coop 
'Twas where the shine was hid. 

"There'll be no eggs for us this month 
You made the corn impure. 
No gum for you, or peppermint, 
Until these hens are cured." 



My uncle wailed my cousin good, 
Mama turned me on her knee, 
The sight behind the woodshed 
Was pitiful to see.

My cousin said, "My butt hurts." 
I said, "Sure 'nuff, me too." 
We rubbed our little poor behinds, 
'Twas nothing else to do.

But then we grinned, recalled the chicks
That drunken rooster, too.
My Mom called, "Kids, are you all right?"
And we could smell her roux.

We couldn't ride, we couldn't climb
We couldn't even sit
But weeks on end the tale was told
And "Yes," we said, "'Twas worth it." 









© Copyright 1998 Patricia Jane St. John Danko