Turducken Poem

This poem was originally posted at Stop Me When I Am Lying. I’m cross-posting here on the slight chance that anybody knows about this blog and not the other. I don’t know how you could make it through another Thanksgiving Day without this. By the way, I really do think that we need to remember who we are thanking on the fourth Thursday every November.

Don’t go huntin’ turducken
you won’t find such a bird.
There are no wild turducken,
the thought is just absurd.

There is no call to make,
no cluck, no gobble nor quack.
You can’t drop one from your blind
and put him in your sack.

But if you find turducken
on your festive plate.
Give thanks to God almighty,
your hunger He will sate.

© 2006 Matthew Keough