I once About thirty years ago Spent one week Sometime in December Plucking turkeys These turkeys Were first Hung upside down By their feet They then had their throats cut And a plastic bag Put over their heads, and neck To collect the blood And whilst they were in Their final death throes Of life The turkey pluckers Take over As the feathers Pluck easier From warm bodies The whole process Seemed grotesque And brutal And for a brief moment In my life I was part of this The following week I was working As an onion peeler For a pate making company It brought tears to my eyes this year i'm having My usual nut roast Which is not dissimilar to stuffing That i used to have With my brutally murdered turkey The good old days........