Good Thanksgiving feast, was it? If not, read on…

A rather rude poem for Holiday “chefs” in the USA who, post-Thanksgiving, are now all cooked out. Bon appétit, if you can face it…

Funny rude poem about Thanksgiving by Suzan St Maur


Thanksgiving is over
The turkey is done
Dismembered, digested
And perfectly spun…

…into many waste products
Down sewers and sinks
In unmentionable forms
With unmentionable stinks.

We who have cooked this
Are weary and tired
It’s like running a restaurant
So undesired.

If anyone asks me
For more bits of turkey
I’ll smack ‘em so hard
Their faces won’t worky.

Cranberry sauce?
More gravy and stuffing?
Go fix it yourselves
And no, I’m not bluffing.

My nails are all broken
My makeup is running
To think just last week
I looked pretty stunning.

Now I resemble
A butcher in manners
With cut hands, and fingers
That look like bananas.

Rude, funny poem about Thanksgiving by Suzan St MaurMy stomach is bulging
My hair is all matted
My face looks a bit like
A ball that’s been batted.

My clothes are all splattered
With goose grease and gravy
And water stains just like
You’d get in the navy.

So what am I going to
Cook for tomorrow?
Roast beef? Roast chicken?
A nifty stuffed marrow?

A roast pork with crackling?
A juicy roast duck?
Now, here’s the bad news
I don’t give a f***.

My time of delivering
These tasty creations
Has come to an end.
I just made reservations…

…for a restaurant, (risking
being slightly offensive)
As I love their food.
And it’s bloody expensive.

So here’s the bonus
Oh, love of my life
You’re paying for the whole meal
To honor your wife.

Have you read your Huff Post today?

Mischieverse is coming…

Excerpted from “Mischieverse: rude humour that sort-of rhymes”

by Suzan St Maur
to be published in 2017
© Suzan St Maur 2016-2017