Some kids had cats or dogs,
Or if their parents were rich
Enough, they had ponies or
Horses, but you had a cockerel
All to yourself, which followed
You around wherever you went,
And stood by you when you sat
Down to eat, or like the time you
Had your photo taken by Uncle
Ralph, the cockerel was there
Like some partner in crime;
Uncle Ralph said the bird could
Stay, and even though you were
Five or six and smoking a cigarette
You’d bummed from Mother’s bag,
Uncle just clicked away until he
Had the picture just so, and rising
Up to his six foot three he shook
His head and gave a grin like some
Demon who’d converted you to sin.
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