A humorous Thanksgiving poem with my favorite 'character', Clyde, the corndog.
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Clyde, the Corndog in “No Jerky, Turkey”

Clyde ambled into the veggie bar.
Elma Turkey sat crying not far.
“Miss my family. Know where they are?
On somebody’s table, legs ajar.
Seeped, wallowed in butter, basted well,
bagged, ready to roast, simmer in hell.”
Clyde thought her sappy, a little snide.
“I guess you’ve not heard the other side.
For months I’m banished, don’t need to hide.
Nobody wants me, a corndog, Clyde.
Dogs freezer boxed, refrigerated,
till hunger for turkey is o’er, sated.”
“Just think, Brother Clyde of our carcass--
they pick our bones, stick stuff up as-es.
When ‘hatched’ lack room and itch, can’t scratch it
We’re fatten, stuffed, legs up in tresses.
Wings clipped—can’t fly (in each others’ face)
fowl, mere poultry, taking up space.”
“Your breasts are HUGE … not that I’m looking.
Your scents savory when you’re cooking.
Left-over turkey makes GREAT jerky.”
SLAP! “Ouch!” Shook up Clyde’s thoughts are murky.
“Want to go to the Emporia?
They have ‘boosters’ by Victoria!”
Elma swallowed a gobble and beamed,
relieved her body wouldn’t be creamed.
If seen with a corndog, Ma would scream:
“That’s a NIGHTMARE, Elma, not a dream!
A corndog can’t measure up to size
lest he were Turk Jerky in ‘dog’ disguise!”
Clyde motioned to Elma—this day done—
“Let’s get to the malls, Hon … have some fun …
camp at the store doors, be number one.”
Flat as flitters, by hams o’errun,
the two huddled closer, hams high on sauce.
Cranberries (at random) did hams toss.
They ambled back to the veggie bar
thankful for Christmas … pigged out hams STAR!