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.
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