Drumsticks are pounding out a rhythm
as the cranberries stand at attention.
The wishbone, a wounded soldier, broken with rage
leads the stuffing to their places.
The mashed makes a truce with the scalloped,
as the potato regime unites.
The signal is given – an unsuspecting knife plunged into the
plump and sacred turkey.
The holiday battle has begun.
The stuffing attacks, flying into the mouths of
Huge waiting Giants
as the green beans, carrots and corn play dead
in the round bowl on the corner of the table –
neutral territory.
The potatoes are slowly smothered and drown in pools of gravy.
All that’s left is the cranberries – they can’t
hold off the enemy alone.
One by one they are plucked from the platter as
the Turkey is left, open to savages.
Knives fly, forks dig, Giants devour.
The white flag is left on the Turkey’s carcass, a final surrender
to the battleground now scattered with
cranberry stains and bones of soldiers who
never had a chance.
The Giants have won again.