Twas the night of Thanksgiving at NBC
All the employees were mighty hungry
They left the control room
And leapt from the set
For a Thanksgiving dinner they won't soon forget
They got to the doors at around 30 past
They all hoped the Thanksgiving turkey would last
The first thing they noticed was a lack of plates
Who knew 30 minutes would mean they were late?
In place of dishes, were styrene containers
But still no one there had become a complainer
They took the containers which soon were all gone
The line was now moving, what else could go wrong?
People were eating, good news for the crew
They got to the front to find "gone wrong part 2"
At the front of the line a carcass lay waiting
Faces were made, nerves were now grating.
Some people said, "Hope they didn't run out..."
Then the waitress left, and they started to doubt
That Thanksgiving dinner would be alright
They all felt the chills on that holiday night
With a worrisome look the waitress said
"The Chef's working on it"
The crew filled with dread
She then disappeared though soon she returned
And their biggest fears, she then confirmed
With a tray in her hands filled with processed turkey
That had less taste than the blandest tofurkey
With a look of I'm sorry
And a set of small tongs
She brought pressed meat to right all the wrongs
They moved down the line with saddened faces,
To add something else to their clear plastic cases
Stuffing and yams green beans and lettuce
All of them wondering, "did they forget us?"
They sat down to eat with their white plasticware
At one point they laughed... then they just didn't care
As they sat there to eat the Carl Buddig Surprise
The all had that gleam of laughter in their eyes
Then came dessert, no whipped cream to apply...
But still there was some smashed pumpkin pie
from the serving tongs, they had to use
not a spatula in sight... To add to the news
They dispersed and to work they did stroll
Emotions that they had to control
They laughed at the weird turkey-less dinner
But that just meant each was a little bit thinner
It was a bad dinner, and sure not the first
But Thanksgiving this year, was clearly the worst.
Nov 25, 2004
Nov 6, 2004
The Storm
The storm is coming
in its sweet warmth
sticky with humidity
moist yet tender
seducing the sky
with the darkness
kissing everything with rain
that drips down my legs
as I stand in a puddle of sex.
