Turkey Talk

Can we speak freely,
and have a little talk?
If we can't talk turkey,
then we probably,
just can't talk.

I need to write my will,
I know it will be short.
And leave my hens to,
my posterity,
if not my behind.

I know my butt is in a sling,
but what can I do?
my time is numbered by the hour,
that's why I'm talking to you.

Why does the president,
pardon the only one?
If he would pardon all of us,
we still could see the sun.

I've had my days in the sun,
I've done the turkey trot.
My harem is quite large,
and offspring, I have a lot.

But they are doomed,
just like me,
in a year or two.
It seems like all of us turkeys,
are in for bad do do.

Why can't I have a turkey shoot?
At least I'd have a chance.
When they get drunk behind the gun,
hitting me would be just happenstance.

And so I say my farewell,
as I head for the chopping block.
May I roast up plump and juicy,
while you all watch the clock.

I'll be forgotten in a day or two,
when my leftovers are gone.
May you have a Happy Thanksgiving,
that lasts all year long!

Talking Turkey

Mail Me

More Poems

My Place

Copyright 2013 © Ronald W. Hull


It's in the Water and Other Stories

It's in the Water and Other Stories

American Mole:  The Vespers

American Mole:  The Vespers

Verge of Apocalypse Tales

Verge of Apoclypse Tales