Thanksgiving last year we had turkey.
On Christmas we cooked up a ham.
For New Years we all ate beef jerky.
On Valentines Day we had Spam.
Saint Patrick’s Day dinner was hot dogs.
On April Fool’s Day, pepperoni.
Memorial Day we ate beef logs.
The Fourth of July, old baloney.
Our Labor Day dinner was haggis.
Columbus Day dinner was tripe.
On All Hallows Eve, steaming head cheese.
For Veteran’s Day roasted snipe.
If our meals persist in declining,
we’ll soon be consuming whale blubber.
Continue the way we’ve been dining,
the main course will be tire rubber.
Perhaps we’ll eat barbecued sneakers,
or sandwiches made out of dust.
We’ll grind up the glass of old beakers,
and season it lightly with rust.
We’ll boil our dirty old sweatsocks,
and stew them until they congeal,
then stir in some broken alarm clocks,
and ladle it up as a meal.
But please don’t infer I’m complaining,
about the bad meals I’m reliving.
I just thought it needed explaining,
why I’m giving such thanks for Thanksgiving.
— Kenn Nesbitt
Copyright © 1996. All Rights Reserved.
Reading Level: Grade 3
Topics: Food Poems, Holiday Poems, Thanksgiving
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