Turkey Trauma

I ran into Tom Turkey again,

Who quietly sat alone in a bar.

It had been a while, so I said,

"Hey, tell me how things are."

 

"Life for turkeys isn't easy.

You know each day could be our last.

Tomorrow I could end up being

A part of someone's sumptuous repast,"

 

He said, taking a sip of his brandy

And wiping a tiny tear from his eye.

"But," he added, "I guess you also

Never know when you might die.

 

"But a giant difference is

That though today you're strong and able,

If something happened to you, you wouldn't

End up on someone's dining room table."

 

Then he said, "Tell me something;

My reasoning here is kind of murky.

If someone is foolish, weak or inept,

Why do you call that person a turkey?"

 

"Sorry," I said, "but do understand:

The term wasn't created by me.

Nonetheless, I will attempt

To be more sensitive--more PC."

 

"Oh," he said, "one more thing.

It's a disgrace to us turkeys and NOT

Pleasing to see the people dance

A dance known as the turkey trot."

 

"That," I said, "is now obsolete.

The silly dance has faded away.

A turkey trot is now a race

Often occurring on Thanksgiving Day."

 

"That's a big relief," he said,

And then with a look of consternation,

He glanced at the clock, put on his hat,

And said he was going to a demonstration.

 

He picked up his placard and left the bar,

Making me feel slightly barbarian.

Across the sign that poor Tom carried

Were scribbled the words: GO VEGETARIAN!

 

-by Bob B (11-26-19)