The
Turkey Shot Out of the Oven
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 I scrubbed with displeasure, and
thought with chagrin as I mopped, that I'd never again stuff a
turkey with popcorn that hadn't been popped
© Jack
Prelutsky
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