One more about his cars.
So this has got a really big direct quote in it too.
This is called "Chicken and Other Stereotypes."
The officer said, "Nigger, where's the chicken?"
and started inspecting the seats of my automobile
before I could say anything.
It was another one of those cold Chicago days,
and me and Hattie were standing in the middle of Wabash
while the officer slapped this Flyer seat
with the straightening club.
I'll be the first to admit my automobile has plush seats,
but not plush enough to hide a chicken.
Like I would stash a stolen hen where I sit.
Where I come from, folks name their fowl and talk
about those birds like old friends.
I offered to pay the fine, but the officer,
his club dangling off of his wrist like an extra arm,
wouldn't have any of it.
He saw the money roll I had the size of a teacup bulging
in my waistcoat, and he still kept searching.
Finally, I told him--
this is a direct quote--
"Mr. Officer, please understand, no stolen chicken
has ever passed the portals of my face.
Those chickens see the gleam in my eye
and they keep out of my way."