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Pregnant Turkey

Rating: 2.2
First light, a gray and ugly sparrow
was sitting on my windowsill
when he discovered a small, narrow
free space, an entrance if you will.

He managed squeezing through the hole,
was in the kitchen in no time
and concentrated on his goal
to crack the fridge, which is a crime.

The sparrow worked with beak and feet
at last he landed on the jello,
which was just sitting near the meat
and that exotic headless fellow.

He ate his fill and then again
and drank the Chardonnay O'Reilly,
he did not know exactly when
he could come back to this so highly

regarded house for all gourmands
and soon he did become quite sleepy,
a place to hold a brief séance
was what he needed, well a tipi

was right in front of sleepy eyes.
He spread the wings and those two feet
they had been bound by stringy ties
the cave inside though looked quite neat.

At 10 am the cook took hold of
the turkey from the fridge to cook,
the sparrow dreamed and was not told of
the new direction he now took.

At noon the relatives assembled
to sit down to the Sunday supper,
the dog was present and he trembled
and salivated with his upper

and lower glands because he treasured
those little morsels he would get,
after the portions had been measured
the prayer done they were all set.

The father of the tribe now cut
the bird in fair and equal portions,
when Aunt Jemima snapped it shut,
her mouth went through some weird contortions.

Inside the turkey was a chook
and uncle Fritz said oh my God,
a baby bird they took a look
and Aunt Jemima gave a nod.

They all felt terrible and couldn't
continue with their lunch today,
the father told them how he wouldn't
eat bird again, in fact he'd say

that pregnant turkeys should be marked
before you bought them in the store,
they all got up, the dog then barked
stayed in the kitchen, near the door.

The family, now quite depressed
went for a walk down to the lake,
they sat and watched a big bird's nest
when little Cecil, wide awake

said 'these two birds, they have long legs,
why do they sit in nests of twig? '
And someone answered, 'there are eggs
you'll understand when you are big.'
Herbert Nehrlich
Thursday, June 30, 2005
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