Thanksgiving Poem by fanniesson -

I have to admit.
A small part of me gets excited
not knowing if,
she's gonna grab
the carving knife
from my hand,
and come at me with it,
cause.

I still don't know
how to carve the turkey, or.
What kind of meat she prefers
after twenty-seven years of
Thanksgivings together.

Personally
I see no difference between
dark or light meat.

I'm just looking to get through
the damn meal uninjured; not
end up in the hospital, like I did
Fourth of July over.
Barbeque sauce or not
on those burgers of hers.