Black November ~
When I was a young turkey, new to the coop
My big brother Mike took me out on the stoop,
Then he sat me down, and he spoke real slow,
And he told me there was something I had to know;
His look and his tone I will always remember,
When he told me of the horrors of ...
"Come about August, now listen to me,
Each day you'll get six meals instead of just three
And soon you'll be thick, where once you were thin,
And you'll grow a big rubbery thing under your chin."
"And then one morning, when you're warm in your bed,
In'll burst the farmer's wife, and hack off your head.
Then she'll pluck out your feathers so you're bald 'n pink,
And scoop out your insides and leave ya lyin' in the sink."
"And then comes the worst part," he said not bluffing,
"She'll spread your cheeks and pack your rear end with stuffing."
Well, the rest of his words were too grim to repeat,
I sat on the stoop like a winged piece of meat.
I decided on the spot that to avoid being cooked,
I'd have to lay low and remain overlooked.
I began a new diet of nuts and granola,
High-roughage salads, juice and diet cola.
And as they ate pastries, chocolates and crepes,
I stayed in my room doing Jane Fonda tapes.
I maintained my weight of two pounds a half,
And tried not to notice when the bigger birds laughed.
But 'twas I who was laughing, under my breath,
As they chomped and chewed,
ever closer to death.
And sure enough when Black November rolled around,
I was the last turkey left in the whole compound.
So now I'm a pet in the farmer's wife's lap;
I haven't a worry, so I eat and I nap.
She held me today, while sewing and humming,
And smiled at me and said,
"Christmas is coming..."
Don't you just love the holidays!
And all the humor associated with it.
This next one is more fitting for me ... I'm sure you'll agree??
~Twas The Night Before Thanksgiving
Twas the night before Thanksgiving and all through the kitchen;
I was cooking and baking and moaning' and bitchin'.
I've been here for hours, I can't stop to rest,
This place is a disaster, just look at this mess!
Tomorrow I've got thirty people to feed,
They expect all the trimmings - who cares what I need!
My feet are both blistered, I've got cramps in my legs,
The dog just knocked over a bowl full of eggs.
There's a knock at the door and the telephone's ringing;
Frosting drips on the counter as the microwave's dinging.
Two pies in the oven, dessert's almost done;
My cookbook is soiled with butter and crumbs.
I've had all I can stand, I can't take anymore;
Then walks in my husband, spilling rum on the floor.
He heaves and he wobbles, his balance unsteady;
Then grins as he chuckles "The eggnog is ready!"
He looks all around and with total regret,
Says "What's takin' so long? Aren't you through in here yet??"
As quick as a flash I reach for a knife;
He loses an earlobe; I wanted his life!
He flees from the room in terror and pain,
and screams "MY GOD WOMAN, YOU'RE GOING INSANE!!"
Now what was I doing, and what is that smell?
Oh, shit, it's the pies!! They're burned all to hell!!
I hate to admit when I make a mistake,
But I put them on BROIL instead of on BAKE.
What else can go wrong?? Is there still more ahead??
If this is good living, I'd rather be dead.
Lord, don't get me wrong, I love holidays;
They just leave me exhausted, all shaky and dazed.
But I promise you one thing, If I live 'til next year,
You won't find me pulling my hair out in here.
I'll hire a maid, a cook, and a waiter;
And if that doesn't work, I'LL HAVE IT ALL CATERED!
Until next time...
So it goes in my neck of the woods.