Ode to the Costco Chicken

I think that I shall never see

A chicken as lovely as thee.

A chicken whose body is bereft--

Of its head there is nothing left.

But oh, large it sits inside its container.

Its delicious smell makes this a no-brainer.

With an aroma so enticing,

The only thing better is its pricing.

Throughout the week we’ll use the meat.

Casseroles, sandwiches, and soups we’ll eat.

The rest will boil in a pot

Until a broth has been wrought

To use next week in soups and things—

Nothing to waste, not even the wings.

Who can resist a deal so fine--

Rotisserie chicken at four ninety-nine?

Rhyming comes easy for someone like me.

But only Costco can make a chicken.