The turkey shot out of the oven
And rocketed into the air,
It knocked every plate off the table
And partly demolished a chair.
It ricocheted into a corner
And burst with a deafening boom;
Then splattered all over the kitchen
Completely obscuring the room.
It stuck to the walls and the windows,
It totally coated the floor;
There was turkey attached to the ceiling
Where there’d never been turkey before.
It blanketed every appliance,
It smeared every saucer and bowl;
There wasn’t a way I could stop it,
That turkey was out of control.
I scraped and scrubbed with displeasure,
And though with chagrin as I mopped
That I’d never again stuff a turkey
With popcorn that hadn’t been popped.
From all of us at The Craft Center