Gobble, Gobble: When I was a youngster, new to the coop, my brother Tom took me out on the stoop He sat me down, and spoke real slow, then told me theres something I really needed to know His look, and his tone I will always remember, when he told me the horrors of black November He said, come about August, Listen to me, Each day youll get six meals instead of just three Soon youll be thick,where once you were thin, and youll grow a rubbery thing under your chin Then one morning while youre warm in bed, In comes the farmers wife to hack off your head shell pluck your feathers until youre bald n pink,scoop out your inners,and put you in the sink Next is the worst part, and Im not bluffing, Shell spread you apart and pack you with stuffing His final words were too grim to repeat,so I sat there on that stoop,like a worried piece of meat I decided on the spot to avoid being cooked, that I would have to lay low, to remain overlooked So I started a new diet,eating nuts and granola,with high roughage salads, and lots of diet cola While others ate pastries, chocolates and crepes, I stayed in my room doing Jane Fonda tapes I kept my weight at two pounds and a half,and tried not to notice when the bigger birds laughed But it was I who laughed under my breath,while they chomped and chewed ever closer to death And sure enough when November rolled around, I was the last one left in that turkey compound Meanwhile,I am a pet in the farmers wifes lap, without a care in the world,while I eat, and I nap She held me today, while sewing, and humming, Smiling at me, she said Christmas is Coming
Posted on: Tue, 18 Nov 2014 14:34:18 +0000