Poem #2

Poem #2

My second poem, in my friend Jillian's challenge to write a bad poem a day for 30 days:

The Night The Turkey Went Bad

Whoof....

At some point, between then and now, the Turkey Went Bad.

Sure, there's the smell.
Raw, rancid reak. Revolting. Refrigerated Ruin.
The Kind of Smell that Ruins a White Shirt.

It's one thing to spoil...

But the Fridge?

A war of attrition fought in the crisper.

We look for suspects.

Milk Never Murders.

However....

Broccoli Spears.
Carrot Sticks.
Jelly Rolls.
Butter Knives.

We even have OJ.

Chicken Fingers.

The Turkey? He's the bird what did it.
Murky, Jerky, All too Perky?
It just beat the piss out the pickles.
Boiled Ham.
Deviled Eggs.
Stewed Prunes.

(I like the taste).

The Trial was Short.
Judge, Jury, Executioner, me.