Chilly Willy

That fat shivering penguin with the hat and scarf

Chilly Willy

Is the essence of my soul

Bumbling around melting his igloo with woodstove

He never spoke

He was a Chaplin

Saying it all with a raised eyebrow or sad head

He never belonged in the ice and cold

He was a warm water bird

Why did Walter create such a sorrowful misfit?

Woody was the fucking loon!

Pecker that he was

He always seemed to belong there

Shoving his beak up the buzzard’s sweaty ass

But Chilly was never at home anywhere

Not

Any

where

Out of place

Any 

Place

Unless there was a big steaming buttery pile of flap cakes or pan jacks

Maybe a single malt Scotch

Some day someone will create a world where no Chilly Willy has to suffer

Just for being born in the last place he’d ever choose to live