Spamonnaise

Mom made a turkey formed of Spam
It shined like gelatin
But gloss glazed Spam, grease-pimpled ham
Would never come again
Feather dusters she used for legs
One green, one red, like Christmas pegs
Feather dusters
Feather dusters
This doomed turkey made from dregs

She baked it in the oven when
The dusters caught ablaze
Dad whacked it with a shovel then
Squished it into Spamonnaise
My mother cried that day alone
Within a smoke filled room she moaned
My mother cried
My mother cried
“This Thanksgiving must be postponed!”

Then Dad said, “It looks good to me!”
Trimming the burnt Spam bird
“Let’s all give thanks for what we see.”
And that was the last word
We bowed our heads, began to pray
That God would take this food away
We bowed our heads
We bowed our heads
For an end to Thanksgiving Day