Thanksgiving 2013

I run to clear some space
or justify gluttony later.

I bathe. I iron. I dress.
I heap the plate with yellow:
potatoes, macaroni, yellow rice casserole; 
then brown: turkey and stuffing.
Oh, fine, I'll get some salad.
3. 2. 1. Go!
Inhale food, not air.
Ow. Ow. Ow.

Up from the table,
down to the couch.
Along comes beer.
and now for intermittent wakefulness,
as gladiators smash into each other
interspersed with exhortations to:
shop, shop, shop!
and
spend, spend, spend!
and get out the house ASAP!
to join the maddening crowd
to buy unnecessary stuff
that people we love don't really need
for the next time we have time off to see them
instead of staying home and 
spending time with them
instead of staying home and 
spending time with them now.

NO!

I couch and beer and smile
and laugh and listen and tell
and nap and am covered in
nuclear fire-hot dogs
and this is how it's
supposed to be.