The Tale of the Smoking Chicken Head

He wasn't even a whole bird. No wings, no gizzard, no talons. Just a head: a bright red flashy crest, a curved beak, and a blood-red swollen eye capped with a drooping half-staff lid.They called him "Head". and that's what he was.

Because he had no limbs, Head paid me to handroll his special herbal cheroots. It was a straight barter situation. Head would peck the itchy spot on the back of my scalp, and I would roll one up and place it in his beak for him.

Afterwards, he would reminisce about the bygone days, wreathed in a cloud of blue smoke, his eyes getting redder, and the stories flowing like moonshine. I miss that little guy, and when I started making art, Head was one of the first images I wanted to make.

He has become part of my family now.I hope his picture makes you smile. Please sip some coffee, dunk your donuts and see my cartoon gallery and surreal gallery. Kind Regards, Lisa Grant