Excellent a poem Random Rhyme and Petty Prose : A One Hundred Word Poem by Bill Schott

Sometimes the contests become rather odd, requiring the Devil, turkey bacon, and God; with those three items in any known frame, use unusual meter and give it a name. The Devil went down to Terre Haute, looking for some discount veal; someone sold him a pig in a poke, this scam made the poor Devil squeal. Then God intervened with poultry bacon, "Look at all the fuss you're makin'; You won't need to whine like a wee little boy, eat this fake bacon, made from turkey or soy."   When you reach one hundred words, my friend, then you will simply end.   Recognized Author Notes Image from Google

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