Monday, October 11, 2010

No Thanks

This Thanksgiving weekend offered us the perfect day: 10/10/10....3 tens, and tension mounts as I count the days since a truly perfect day. 

Again and away through the bibulous tide of the village rules by which I must abide I'm tense to ride it out, and shout "FOR FUCK'S SAKES!!!" at nothing in particular and only in my mind, for out loud I shroud my disdain by calmly asking for the gravy to be passed.

This Thanksgiving weekend I am the turkey.  Stuffed and baked and torn at and fought over and I offer only a wishbone.


So others may fight with their might to o'erpower the other, their brother perhaps, and I lapse into the disgrace that is the race in this village, to lose.


  1. As the guest of honour at the harvest feast morphs from delicious anticipation to a cold greasy carcass; take note that at least, unlike the bird you still retain two functioning drumsticks and the ability to use them.

  2. The perspective you introduce has left me out on a limb.