He's got a neck like a turkey, I think,
So small, so easy to wrap fingers around to choke.
Daddy always said to have an escape plan,
I just thought mine would be a door.

I could wax poetic, like I wax my body,
I could wax poetic and rip away everything
Until I'm left with the bare skin naked ugliness
Of this man with a neck like a turkey.

Momma was raised on the Devil's farm and she knows ugly.
She always said that turkeys were mean, proud things,
Mean with beady little false Thanksgiving eyes,
And he's got the neck of a turkey.

And I suppose this is his revenge after a life spent as the meal
And It's my turn to be the prey, and it isn't beautiful,
I've waxed away the poetry and now it's just us,
And it's almost funny.

He's hunting, and I know because he said so,
Feathers fanned out, Turkey playing Peacock cocky.
Daddy always said to have an escape plan,
I just thought mine would be a door.

He's got a neck like a turkey, I think,
So small, so easy to wrap fingers around to choke.
And it isn't beautiful and it isn't poetry,
I waxed it all away, and it's almost funny.