THE TURKEY'S DISTRESS
Look down, Holy Mystery, Creator,
I hope you have love in you eye:
It's Turkey, the jerk of the barnyard,
Ashamed I'm so slow-brained and shy.
Though I am no beauty to look at,
I've even more shameful insides,
Afraid to be known for a turkey,
A creature that gobbles and hides.
Fenced in with superior creatures,
I suffer stage fright to a fault,
Forgetting the few things I've mastered,
My aching brain grinds to a halt.
As each year's Thanksgiving approaches,
I pray: Let me die and be meat!
And manage at last to give pleasure,
At least I was useful to eat!
Look down, Holy Mystery, Creator:
I'm a clown feeling awkward and shy,
Why create such ridiculous creatures?
Don't answer! I'll trust you know why.
from the forthcoming book Prayers of 100 Animals A to Z, by William Cleary