by Brian McCann
They don’t understand airwaves,
computers, or cable.
And building large screens?
Chickens simply aren’t able!
TVs beam and they stream.
They’re controlled by remote.
They’re high-end electronics
using currents and volts.
They have plugs, they have channels,
aluminum frames.
They can store your old photos.
They play video games.
TVs are amazing,
wonderful things.
And they can’t be constructed
by things that have wings!
But this crazed flock of chickens
had TV on the brain,
so they tried to construct one,
and it was completely insane.
They ran in every direction!
Hitting trees and each other!
One ran over his cousin!
One slammed into his mother!
Two hens knocked over
a big bottle of glue,
getting stuck to each other
and an old gym shoe!
They were looking for things
that they thought they would need,
grabbing this, grabbing that,
grabbing it all with great speed.
Some had pipes, some had bags.
There was one with a plate.
There were six stronger chickens
with an old sewer grate!
They had boxes and cans,
an old basketball.
They were out of control,
running fast with it all.
To the coop they all ran,
every rooster and hen,
smashing into it hard!
All one hundred and ten!
What a disaster!
They hit with such force,
the coop slammed to the ground.
It was ruined, of course.
It crashed and it tumbled.
What was up was now down.
What was once facing out
was now smashed to the ground.
But when the dust settled,
they stared with delight
at the wreckage before them
in the warm evening light.
Their coop was demolished,
broken and mangled.
All that remained
was one giant rectangle.
It was perched on its side
lit by the sun’s glow.
Bright and inviting,
a screen ready to go!
The chickens stared at their shadows.
They were nicely projected
right onto the screen.
It was more than expected.
Then a shadow was seen
of hens stuck to a shoe.
The others let out a cackle
for a minute or two!
They liked what they saw!
More got in on the action!
They loved to perform!
It was pure satisfaction!
Some started to dance.
Some did funny walks.
Some sat and enjoyed.
Some let out loud squawks.
Oh, what a show
on this rectangular panel.
They’d just created
their own chicken channel!
At the end of their days
they’ll no longer feel blue.
They’ll entertain one another.
They’ll have something to do!
We knew that the chickens
couldn’t build a TV,
but what they accomplished
was almost better, you see.
They create their own plays.
They create their own shows.
They create their own dances.
They’re show business pros!
The rest of their coop
lay all mashed in a heap,
so they’d have to go find
a new place to sleep.
But as long as the sun
gently sets in the west,
their screen would be working.
They’d take care of the rest.
THE DAY THE PIGS TRIED TO LIVE LIKE HUMANS
(GUESS WHAT? IT WAS AN ABSOLUTE CATASTROPHE!)
Out in the country,
on Wannabe Farms,
the gentle beasts in the barnyard
were displaying their charms.
From the cows that attempted
to build a cow car
to the talented chickens
that had become “TV” stars.
Something had happened,
something quite rare.
Something was different.
There was change in the air.
The creatures were dreaming
of things they could do,
of hopes and of wishes,
of things to pursue.
The idea was growing.
It was picking up steam.
Pursuing a dream
was becoming mainstream!
On one summer day,
it happened again,
far away in the field
in a small wooden pen.
The flat-snouted pigs
with their curlicue tails
were eating their slop
out of old rusty pails.
They were snorting and grunting,
making a mess,
when two stepped aside,
away from the rest.
They started to wonder,
what were they doing?
Just standing in mud,
chomping and chewing.
Is this what life was about?
Doing nothing all day?
Lying around?
Having nothing to say?
Who had decided
this is how pigs should act?
Well, it had never been questioned
as a matter of fact.
But the view from their pigsty
had become a production.
Beyond the farm fields,
towns were under construction.
They saw homes being built
and new schools in view.
The humans lived nicely!
Couldn’t pigs, too?
These two pigs believed
pigs could do so much more,
from the sow to the warthog
to the hairy wild boar.
They thought that all pigs,
the big and the small,
could live the good life
away from their stall.
They thought pigs could be fancy,
witty, and smart.
They thought pigs should have manners
and enjoy works of art.
Pigs had so much potential!
They had so much to share!
Living life in the mud?
Well, it didn’t seem fair!
There could be a pig school.
There could be a pig city.
There could be pig elections
and a full pig committee.
This was their moment!
This was their time!
The dawn of a new age!
The dawn of the swine!
The rest of the pigs
thought they were crazy.
Pigs shouldn’t be fancy.
Pigs should be lazy.
But the two were convinced,
they so firmly believed,
that a pig renaissance
could be achieved.
So the pig pair set off
on a noble pig quest
to build a grand kingdom
and return for the rest.
It might take them months,
it might take them years,
so they said their goodbyes
with pig hugs and pig tears.
Then they probably walked
just a minute or two
when a grand opportunity
came into view.
In the back of the farmhouse,
just out to the east,
the farmer had set
a delectable feast!
It all was unguarded.
No one was around.
They couldn’t believe it!
What good fortune they’d found!
He must be throwing a party.
Lots of folks must be coming.
It was an elegant spread.
The pigs’ brains started humming!
If the farmer could dine
at a big fancy table,
couldn’t pigs, too?
They were certainly able!
What a wonderful chance
to act civilized!
No more head in a bucket!
No more swatting at flies!
They’d sit on real chairs,
use forks and use knives,
sip drinks from cups,
have the time of their lives!
They’d prove to themselves
that pigs can be classy,
that they don’t have to be grimy,
stinky, and gassy.
They’d cross their legs and laugh loudly,
eat creams and munch cakes,
have bowls of spaghetti,
drink sweet chocolate shakes.
So one pulled out a chair
for the other to sit.
He nodded his thanks
and climbed onto it.
He tried to sit upright
like he’d seen people do,
but pigs can’t sit upright.
That statement’s just true!
His legs stuck straight out.
His arms waved in the air.
He wiggled and squirmed
in the uncomfortable chair.
He couldn’t get close
to the toast or the jelly,
because blocking the way
was his large piggish belly.
He reached for a drink,
letting out a soft snort,
but he just couldn’t reach it.
His arms were too short.
But they didn’t give up.
They would not be deterred.
Pigs can be stubborn
as you’ve probably heard.
They circled the table,
staring up at the treats,
at the stacks of warm pies
and at the goodies and sweets.
But how could they get them?
What could they do?
Let’s stop for a second
and think this one through . . .
Okay, if two pigs leave on a journey to create a new pig kingdom and suddenly find themselves looking at a big fancy table covered with snacks, and they want to eat the snacks, well, they don’t really have many options.
We know they can’t sit on the chairs—because they are pigs.
We know they can’t drive a truck over to the table and scrape off all of the food with a magic food-scraping shovel—because they are pigs.
In fact, we know they can really do only one thing: ACT LIKE PIGS!—because they are pigs.
And that’s what they did.
When an animal’s hungry,
when it wants to get food,
it can forget to act kindly.
It can start to act rude.
It’s not the animal’s fault.
It’s known as instinct.
They become unpredictable.
They no longer think.
And that’s just what happened.
They got upset and riled.
They got panicked and kooky.
The pigs went hog wild.
It was mayhem and madness.
They were oinking and squealing.
They were running in circles.
They were rocking and reeling.
Now, you probably think
that pigs can’t move quickly
with short little legs
and bodies built thickly.
But these pigs were fast.
They wanted onto that table.
They kept building up speed
and were finally able!
One jumped on a bench.
The other jumped on a chair.
Then they both took a leap
and went high in the air.
They slammed onto the feast,
exhausted and sweaty.
Cakes and candies went flying,
so did the spaghetti.
It was total destruction.
The pigs rolled in potatoes.
They gorged on a sandwich
and danced in tomatoes.
Then they looked at themselves
all covered in food,
and suddenly both pigs
were in a very good mood!
They didn’t look filthy,
smelly, or messy.
They looked kind of fancy,
classy, and dressy.
A cake for a hat.
Spaghetti for hair.
The most civilized pigs
you would find anywhere!
Salad for pants.
Red stains for shoes.
A shirt made of pudding.
Lollipops for tattoos.
They were expressing themselves—
very unique.
Pig works of art—
trendy and chic!
They sauntered right back
to where the other pigs lay
and showed off their new look.
It was a historical day.
The other pigs stared,
becoming inspired,
and the old way of the pig
was quickly retired.
All the pigs wanted
cake hats, too!
Being pigs with pizzazz
was exciting and new!
They shot off to the table.
They rolled in the mess,
making string bean tuxedoes
and a Cobb-salad dress.
It was a massive pig party,
a real pig celebration.
The best day of their lives.
They were filled with elation.
This was the feeling
the pigs had desired.
They were living life better.
They were living inspired.
To be fancy like humans?
They couldn’t compete!
But to be fancy pigs
they just wear what they eat!
THE DAY THE SHEEP WANTED TO BECOME BARBERS
(IT’S LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE, BY THE WAY, SO IT WAS A HUGE MESS!)
If you’re keeping score,
here’s what has happened so far:
The cows started it all
by building a car.
That inspired the chickens
to build a TV,
which inspired the pigs
to act all fancy.
So, it happened again,
one day with the sheep,
on a cool, clo
udy morning
as the sheep tried to sleep.
Out of the blue
came a construction crew,
stomping right through
the wet morning dew.
They hammered, they hauled,
they hoisted things high.
They were done in an hour,
they did not say goodbye.
It was in the sheep’s pasture.
It could not be ignored.
It stood fifty feet tall.
It was a brand-new billboard.
It was huge, it was massive,
it blocked out the sky.
It was something to look at
for the cars that drove by.
The sheep couldn’t read it,
but they could certainly see
lots of beautiful models
with their hair wild and free.
The flock soon forgot it,
but four sheep just stared.
There was something about
all that beautiful hair.
Then an Old English sheepdog
came to herd them away.
Off to the shed,
it was sheep-shearing day.
And that’s when the thought
jumped into their heads.
They should avoid getting sheared,
cut their own hair instead!
Sheep that get sheared
have no style or grace.
Hair’s removed from their bodies.
Hair’s removed from their face.
But what if the hair
wasn’t sheared off completely,
and instead had some style
and was cut cool and neatly?
The idea was exciting!
They’d make it their duty!
The sheep wanted glamour!
The sheep wanted beauty!
Why should the humans
have all of the fun?
Couldn’t the sheep
put their hair in a bun?
Or have mohawks, or crew cuts,
or a sheep pompadour,
or high taper fades,
or long braids to the floor!
So the four ducked away.
They escaped from the line.
Hiding in bushes,
biding their time.
Where the cows and the chickens
had tried to build things,
and the pigs had set out
to see what luxury brings,
the sheep had a mission
that was focused and clear.
They needed the tool.
The tool used to shear!
