The Turkey

Against the marble sunlight I limped into the clearing; Feathers blood-thick From the musket. Those silly bouncing Boats behind me, Brass buckles bobbing Out of the thicket, Turning my Thursday into a nightmare. I collapse into the scorch-white Grass of the middle. My gizzard facing the sky. I find a bullet in my mouth. I spit it out, not sure how it got there... How did any of us get here for that matter? A shadow crawls over the sun-- I don't fight it's dark coolness... The bullet, my mouth, the ocean, these big buckles? At what point do I, the Turkey, have the right and capacity--aw hell. I am just finally happy to get a little shade. I'm thankful. "Happy Thanksgiving," Spoke the voice of God Behind the circle of steel. Emerged from darkness. I heard a whimper, not mine, Then loudness.