Let me ease your burden
Tom Turkey was a thoughtful bird, and circumspect in deed and word
Yet in his feathered breast there stirred a grand ambition long deferred.
“We are too dignified a race to languish in captive disgrace!
We might a wider world embrace, if farmer’s fence we could erase!”
And turkey emperor he’d be, Tom often reckoned secretly
Who led his flock to victory and set the persecuted free.
He’d stalk the scratching yard by day, his warrior’s plumage on display,
And in the feeding sheds inveigh against their cultural decay
“No more must turkeys here inside this chicken wire bondage bide.
With strength and righteousness allied, we’ll rise in liberating tide!”
Tom forged his battle plans with care to catch the farmer unaware.
No quarter would commander spare in that most desperate affair.
The younger Jakes arrayed before, the older Toms a solid corps,
And in reserve those maids of war, determined Jennies by the score
With lightning speed the army struck. The gate swung wide – a stroke of luck!
Through breached defense they surged amok straight into waiting poultry truck.
Capricious are the winds of fate, as Turkey Tom found out too late,
No lord of sovereign Turkey State, but king of one Thanksgiving plate.
A frosty eve in late October, at home I idled, barely sober
Cheetos-dusted fingers tapping many a curt and snotty tweet
As I wallowed, iPad beeping, all at once there came a peeping
Like somebody slyly creeping, creeping from the darkened street.
“Just the neighbor’s cat,” I figured, “creeping from the darkened street,
“to ‘pon my patio excrete.”
Lurching up to give that frickin’ animal a vicious lickin’
I heard outside the caustic croon of fairy voice in plaintive bleat
If not the cat to take a poop, then who had overrun my stoop?
What thoughtless Tartar lay in siege, my customary sloth to cheat?
Sweatpants striped with pizza sauce and mismatched socks upon my feet
I staggered from my furrowed seat
Tarrying at the door awhile, still hoping to avoid such trial,
“No solicitors!” I cried, “Begone with your petition sheet!”
“More magazines I do not need, nor have I interest in your creed,”
“I beg you come no more a-peeping. Creep you back to darkened street!”
In answer came a stern command with peeping, cheeping, cheerful heat.
Peeped the creeper, “Trick or Treat!”
Near lost in unswept Autumn litter, plastic scepter’d, gown a-glitter
A tiny princess brightly reigned o’er unread news and stained concrete.
What was this creature fiercely beaming? Surely I was merely dreaming.
Fearing awkward consequence I rasped in desolate entreat.
“What is it finds Your Majesty before my humble peasant suite?”
Chirped the princess, “Trick or Treat!”
Mind in shock and awe recoiling, Hot Pocket in my gut a-boiling
What awful tribute must be paid before I could regain my seat?
Half a box of stale Froot Loops, a pantry full of Ramen soups
What had I to pacify the sequined despot, so petite?
“Sorry kid,” I said, a-tremble, “but I got nothin’ good to eat.”
Piped the princess, “Trick or Treat!”
Back into my pig sty turning, nervous bowels within me churning,
Surely there was somewhere in that mess a single morsel sweet.
Rooting through the Barcalounger, there was I, pathetic scrounger
Desperate to find a scrap to buy relentless child’s retreat
Pray let me find a loose Tic Tac down here below the sofa seat!
Smiled the princess, “Trick or Treat!”
Falling, sobbing, to the floor, my courage failing and ears a-roar
I caught a glimpse of my salvation wrapped in cellophane discreet
Cracked and crushed and dirty, but, that ancient mint from Pizza Hut
Might even yet snatch triumph from the bitter jaws of rank defeat
“Here you go,” I muttered, weakly rising on unsteady feet.
“It ain’t pretty, but it’s a treat.”
“Thank you!” sang the elfin queen. “And have a happy Halloween!”
Then off she danced down leaf-strewn path unto the darkened street.
Many Octobers since have flown, and many Autumn winds have blown
Many an Arby’s wrapper since has drifted ‘round my arch-less feet
But still my strength and wits must fail each time those cruel words repeat
upon my doorstep – “Trick or Treat!”
A dull and idle boy was he
Whom Senator would one day be
For un-remarkability
He was a perfect twit
Scholastically he missed the bar
In sports he functioned under par
On looks alone he’d not go far
Nor live upon his wit
And yet this dreary lump of clay
Had one redeeming card to play
It was a talent, some would say
Not fit for gentle folk
The lad could look you in the eye
And let outrageous falsehoods fly
There was no fib, nor tale, nor lie
Too brazen to invoke
He lied his way through public school
Professors all he made the fool
Of truth no single molecule
Did stain his bar exam
At law his gift won accolades
Not possible in honest trades
In time he joined the vile crusades
A mayor’s seat to scam
With artful infidelity
He milked the city’s treasury
Invested in publicity
and stormed the Capitol
Without the truth to slow him down
The wretched lad now toasts the town
And spreads his lies the Beltway ‘round
To keep his pockets full
That little lying boy so bland
Is now a lying Congressman
With power over all the land
And hogwash in his heart
But now his native gift for fraud
Strikes no one as unduly odd
He is, of all that crew, by God
A well-respected part.
