The Turkey Surgeon
I get this job every year
I have never been to medical school and I am just a lowly nurse
Yet it seems that every year my family hands me the electric scalpels and puts me to work
I surgically slice and dice ole Turkey Lurkey
Once he comes out of the oven he begins to get that nervous look upon his face
"I wonder how she will approach me this year?
Will it be the prone presentation or supine?
One year we ordered Cornish hens and it was sublime!
No carving required!"
This year I have a new blade and it is revved up and rearing to go
First I delicately removed his thighs and cut perpendicular through his breast
His gizzards were harvested at the beginning of the surgery all neatly tucked away in a nice little baggy
After Turkey Lurkey’s flesh was neatly arranged on the tray
I took the remaining juices and basted him one more time
Lean and tender and just on time
He arrived to the table straight from the O.R.
Happy Thanksgiving from my surgical suite to yours!
The Turkey Surgeon,
This is my official Thanksgiving Day poem!
Copyright © Gwendolen Song | Year Posted 2014
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