Cold Turkey

by Jemia de Blondeville   Dec 3, 2021

I once
About thirty years ago
Spent one week
Sometime in December
Plucking turkeys
These turkeys
Were first
Hung upside down
By their feet
They then had their throats cut
And a plastic bag
Put over their heads, and neck
To collect the blood
And whilst they were in
Their final death throes
Of life
The turkey pluckers
Take over
As the feathers
Pluck easier
From warm bodies
The whole process
Seemed grotesque
And brutal
And for a brief moment
In my life
I was part of this
The following week
I was working
As an onion peeler
For a pate making company
It brought tears to my eyes
this year i'm having
My usual nut roast
Which is not dissimilar to stuffing
That i used to have
With my brutally murdered turkey
The good old days........

by Jemia


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments