Who quietly sat
alone in a bar.
It had been a while,
so I said,
"Hey, tell me
how things are."
"Life for
turkeys isn't easy.
You know each day
could be our last.
Tomorrow I could end
up being
A part of someone's
sumptuous repast,"
He said, taking a
sip of his brandy
And wiping a tiny
tear from his eye.
"But," he
added, "I guess you also
Never know when you
might die.
"But a giant
difference is
That though today
you're strong and able,
If something
happened to you, you wouldn't
End up on someone's
dining room table."
Then he said,
"Tell me something;
My reasoning here is
kind of murky.
If someone is
foolish, weak or inept,
Why do you call that
person a turkey?"
"Sorry," I
said, "but do understand:
The term wasn't
created by me.
Nonetheless, I will
attempt
To be more
sensitive--more PC."
"Oh," he
said, "one more thing.
It's a disgrace to
us turkeys and NOT
Pleasing to see the
people dance
A dance known as the
turkey trot."
"That," I
said, "is now obsolete.
The silly dance has
faded away.
A turkey trot is now
a race
Often occurring on
Thanksgiving Day."
"That's a big
relief," he said,
And then with a look
of consternation,
He glanced at the
clock, put on his hat,
And said he was
going to a demonstration.
He picked up his
placard and left the bar,
Making me feel
slightly barbarian.
Across the sign that
poor Tom carried
Were scribbled the
words: GO VEGETARIAN!
-by Bob B (11-26-19)
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