On the subject of Thanksgiving, poems abound.

Many about counting our blessings I have found.

The sights of fabulous food are given tribute.

And the tantalizing aromas, no one will dispute.

But it is not of these things that I will tell.

Rather some hidden secrets I must dispel.

This poem is from the perspective of the cook

And with this in mind, let us take a closer look.

Before the crack of dawn, she does faithfully arise

To prepare the meal before her guests will arrive.

While everyone, including roosters, are fast asleep,

with the turkey, an annual date, she must keep.

So without a pause, or time to blink,

She waltzes it over to the kitchen sink.

She pulls the half frozen bird from its bag

Into the neck cavity she plunges her arm

with nary a fear for her own bodily harm.

And then with a mighty yank and a tug

the gizzards fly forth and land on the rug!

“Great to make gravy with,” she has been told.

but they’re slippery, slimy and too icy to hold.

After an hour of cleaning the bird on the inside and out

it is now time to stuff it, without a doubt.

With a sharp knife, she chops, cuts, peels and dices

adding weepy onions and smelly spices.

Again into the cavities her arms they must plunge

wielding stuffing that feels like a soggy, wet sponge.

Into the oven, for hours, it does go

for roasting a turkey is awfully slow!

Now the cook scrubs raw, her elbows and arms.

The day speeds by with more cooking and baking.

There’s mashed potatoes and gravy to be making.

At last after hours and hours of preparation,

guests sit, eat, and leave after just a moment’s duration.

Like piranha they devour everything in sight.

Then for the TV and couch they take their flight.

The cook alone, is again, left to face

the mounds of dishes and pans all over the place.

Glubby gravy in congealed globs,

Cold left over corn from the cobs,

Pasty mashed potatoes stuck to plates like glue

hard-as-rock stuffing and cranberry goo.

What once was appetizing, appealing and hot

is replaced with the carnage of a battle fought!

Bloody turkey carcass with crackling cartilage and bone

looks like a scene from a military war zone.

O, if, with the legend of Thanksgiving, you are smitten,