Eating This Is Murder

My choice of fowl

I must eat

From time to time

Must be marinated in dirt

Must eat that, too

And crack an egg

On my face

And let me get caught

With my pants down —

Easy as pie

As long as that's a piece of cake after

My Humble Pie

When I'm feeling good

And hearty

And no one can best me

Is when it tastes the best

And seasoned just so

Nothing follows my Humble Pie

Better than when

I finally get what I was

Careful to wish for

A modest serving

Served tepid

Of crow

From the murder I have

In the dog house where

I am