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Beneath the table Johnny slipped
silently while no one was aware,
The scoop of icky red stuff
Mom ordered him to eat with a stare.
With his other hand he carefully
Took bites of the turkey meat,
And sat with icky red stuff
Oozing out his fingers to his feet.
Soon the Thanksgiving feast was over
Abandoned for football games,
With icky red stuff oozing secretly
Johnny had no one to blame.
Sneaking, he hoped to skip away
His secret would be unfound
Instead Mom screamed for an ambulance
And fainted on the ground.
The whole house was in a tizzy
Fainting and panic ran amok
While Johnny stood there grinning
Covered simply in cranberry guck.
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On the Thanksgiving table
The cranberry sauce was gleaming
Feigning modesty near
Mashed potatoes steaming.
The buttery green
by Madison West
A Slice of Yesteryear
Call me crazy if you want to
But I prefer my cranberry sauce from a can
It takes me back to my childhood
It was thanksgiving morning,
And all was a-rush,
With turkey in oven,
And mom in a fuss.
I wanted to help,
But what could
He waits patiently
His eyes never leave mine
"Wait your turn," I say
"You'll get yours in time"
He licks his lips with longing
by Scott Scherr
Cranberry Fish
I opened a can of cranberry sauce
and emptied it onto a dish.
It fell with a plop and wiggled a lot
like some
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