He was a good cock, A strong jogoo I would say And I ate him I remember him chasing our only hen Too small for him I’d say but, She still brought forth a small round egg And I ate him I remember that day, the day of the laying- in the evening He stood outside the chicken house, unwilling to enter, confused Unsure of the situation; peeping, sometimes staring-quite like the man he was Ha! And I ate him He was a strong on e; that jogoo A good one; Confident Crowing at three then at four and then at six But I ate him On the day they hatched, he wasn't happy, he grumbled, he couldn’t stand the chicks He trampled them and quarrelled their mother; her feathers were everywhere Brutal bastard; my wife was mad So I ate him I remember the day I came home The sufuria was full and the smell was lovely ‘There is your jogoo!’ And so I ate him Thi...