by James von Dielingen
Our Mom's a little crazy, we love her anyway
But we're all a bit concerned about the lunch she served today
We usually have normal food, like hot dogs on our plates
But today we're getting something new I feel might tempt our fates
It looks a bit spaghetti-ish with breading on the noodles
And instead of marinara, there is gravy by the oodles
I fear the food might come to life and wriggle, writhe and squirm
Because my loving mother chose to serve Chicken-Fried Worms
I scrunched my forehead in attempt to understand the food
I waited for my brother to try and see if it was good
He held is breath, and closed his eyes, and in his mouth it went
I strained to figure out what his facial reaction meant
He paused his chewing, dropped his fork, and relaxed his squinting eyes
And he nodded twice and swallowed hard and looked kind of surprised
He liked the worms and so I thought that maybe they were great
But I couldn't shake the feeling I was eating seafood bait
I braced myself and stabbed a few and popped them in my maw
I had to slurp to keep the worms from falling from my craw
Lo and behold, I liked the worms, they tasted pretty swell
My mother was not quite so nuts as far as I could tell
My lunch was tasty, but I'd like a few friends to confirm
So, I'm asking you to dinner for left-over Chicken-Fried Worms
