Thomas A. Turkey 2019-2019
We grieve Tom Turkey, my what a shame
Richly deserving of much wider acclaim
We say goodbye, with a prayer sacred, stately:
“No, it’s not dry, I just really like gravy!”
He knew from the start like Papa and Mama
He’d play his part in the white and dark drama
And though for a while he railed at his fate
(he fought but failed at losing some weight)
He became courageous at not keeping silent
“We are not ageless! Why try to deny it?
Still we must try to love one and all
Such a beautiful sky although it will fall!”
Chicken Little said, “Wait! What did I hear?!”
He was off meds and manic was near
“Little! Calm down! It’s mere metaphor
Like ‘running around with your head on the floor!’”
But the damage was done, for Little too late
he was on the run from the sky and its weight
Painting descriptions scary and gory
Every depiction a variation of “poor me”
But that’s another story
Meanwhile
Thomas A. Turkey saved not his breath
Straight out of Missouri, “Show your face, Death!
There is no defense, we all will be killed
If there wasn’t a fence I’d push a rock up that hill”
“Life is unjust but what can we do?
We’ll end up as dust (but first we’ll be stew)
Let us have courage to live in the now
It could be much worse….we could be cows!”
“Can you imagine a life without feathers?
We have such an advantage to weather the weather
They have more freedom but who’d want to be them
with no more threesomes with roosters and hens?!”
Definitely another story
Tommy sneaked under the gate (he couldn’t unlatch it)
Went to speak to his fate: the harrowing hatchet
“You must do what you will, it’s preordained nature
My blood will be spilled, the pain will be major”
I will face you with dignity, to live is to die
But I have to admit this, see, sometimes I cry
and I think, oh I know it’s crazy, but let’s run away
oh it would be amazing, no Thanksgiving Day
We defy the plan of the Ultimate Maker
we find the land of no butchers and bakers
Romantic sentiment, a wish on the moon
but there is precedent: Dish and Spoon
They fled to New York, but Spoon fell for Fork
Which led to the stork and soon, well…Spork”
Right, another story
“Oh Blade your silence is nothing but wise
I’ll face the violence and be cut down to size
And though I might want out in the worst way
I’ll say goodnight. See you on Thursday!”
Tommy lay down his life so that others could eat
He leaves 42 wives who will grieve when in heat
812 chicks mercifully chosen
to be freshly served though some will be frozen
And now for our story
We are odd and beautiful birds
And if there’s a God, she must be unnerved
We were gifted the earth bountiful blue
We stripped it of worth, boundaries grew
We assail and rail against states that are red
We read and repeat what’s already been said
Oh if only if only there was something to do
Well there is someone lonely sitting next to you
Our lives will soon end that’s has always been true
and maybe it’s too late for the earth to renew
Despair is convenient- why bother to try?
But what if we just lean into just saying hi?
And throw off our lassitude on Gratitude Day
Make a start with our hearts and humbly pray
Give thanks and praise for this crazy-ass trip
and “Could I please have more gravy on this?”
Throughout November I am writing a poem every day as part of an effort to raise funds for The Center For New Americans. If you like the poems (or even if you don’t) and would like to support this fantastic organization, please follow this link. Thanks.