A Turkey’s Tale

It was not enough

you killed and chilled my carcass

now instead of a proper burial

you cook me

and tear my flesh

in a gathering of the tribe

a feast for your laughing mouths

stuffed and gravied

but wait one last ceremony

passed down from father to child

my breast bone

the one that protected my heart

in life

is grappled apart

by the youngest

yanked in two

pinched between

fingers and thumbs

the winner to gain

the fable of good luck

for the year

to come

as my bones are thrown

without ceremony

into a black trash bag

to be removed

next Tuesday.