Tuesday, November 21, 2006

where does turkey come from?

sorry, still no braille. funding constraints persist until Norbest or someone picks us up for corporate sponsorship. in the mean time you’re more than welcome to take the situation into your own hands. do I have to do everything around here? there really seems to be something about the holidays that feeds this attitude of entitlement.
I’ll tell you where they come from - here. I am surrounded by hundreds of turkey farms. the ragged white feathers of domestic turkeys blow through my yard, into my mailbox, my mouth and tomato cages. and reeking airborne molecules of turkey excrement often hang in a haze around the towns in Sanpete valley. sometimes this haze is visible. here are some turkeys in my neighborhood, in my neighborhood.

I’ve deliberately delayed posting this until after the holiday so nobody gets any ideas about political timing events or overly-punctual news releases. it’s too late and nobody wants your vote anymore. if you know anyone who ran for office, will you please tell them to come clean up their big signs now. wouldn’t it be embarrassing if Jesus came and your name was up all over the place, printed on corrugated plastic.

and this is where all the magic happens: the turkey processing plant up the road from where I live.
look around a little, it’s all here:
this final leg of the virtual tour should raise the gooseflesh on your skin. and now is when you aught to invite any blind children forward to feel your forearm. let this tactile demonstration serve to illustrate the importance of staying in school. they’ll understand. if you and your class are not sufficiently sicked out yet, you can look into the practice of stuffing smaller birds into larger birds.

1 comment:

T.R. said...

You can't polish a Turducken.