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The truth about Easter


"Hello, little chicken," said the horny little rabbit.
"My wife is out of town. Could you help me with my habit?"
The chicken pecked and frowned a bit and clucked a naive question:
"What's a habit, Rabbit? Could it cure my indigestion?"

The rabbit's eyes did gleam and shine. "Oh yes," he said. "Of course!
"I'll need to stand behind you and exert a little force."
The chicken frowned a second time, but let the rabbit in.
He looked, to her, professional. She looked, to him, like sin.

And that's how Easter Eggs are made.

27th March 2013 © Simon Welsh Poetry

27th March 2013 © Simon Welsh Poetry
website: www.simonwelshpoetry.co.uk
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