Talking Turkey

Happy Thanksgiving from Japan, everyone, where most people haven't heard of it. Of course, it's actually now Friday here, and most people have heard of Black Friday because shops can't pass up an excuse for a sale. Black Friday sales are pretty pathetic here, though. 30 or 40 percent off, yay.

This week I've been making burritos with roast chicken and boiled pumpkin. Maybe I should call them wraps since they have no beans. I guess they're kind of Thanksgiving-ish. Turkey is notoriously difficult to get in Japan though I've heard kids have been getting it at Universal Studios Japan. I plan to celebrate this weekend with a few glasses of Wild Turkey, as usual.

Last night I watched The Maltese Falcon--it's about a bird, anyway--and some of the annual Mystery Science Theatre 3000 Turkey Day Marathon, which, as I write, is still streaming. This year they're doing some kind of "Potluck of the Stars" with occasional cameos from celebrities. I think Mark Hamill shows up.

X Sonnet #1901

A score of cats began to climb a dream.
My open dream to which the moon was sent.
Some critters caper up the silver beam.
But stooges smelled her sweat and effort spent.
Eternal teens usurped the office ball.
Returning champs were naught but paper bags.
The human beings aped coyote's call.
With stupid games, the sickly morning sags.
Unlucky birds became the blackened toast.
Before the mob acquired sales, they ate.
Another bird was found to slowly roast.
We left an ear of corn as tempting bait.
With thanks, the giving gnomes destroyed the pot.
The oven served to cook the basted lot.