Cold Turkey

I cast a furtive glance

at Frank

while I remove flesh

from the turkey carcass

The turkey from New Year's Eve,

too much leftover

but what can you do?

They are huge

I tear meat

off small and large bones.

Tendons and gelatinous fat

I put aside

The same with the skin,

turkey surface,

limp and sloppy

and cold the next day

How ingenious,

I think.

The turkey is so

ingeniously constructed:

Like us. Creation.

Biological engineering,

technological wonder.

Cybernetics?

Yes, exactly:

Cybernetics transcending

that which is Frank,

I gather

I look at Frank again,

His grippers lifted.

He is ready

to clean up after me

Frank walks

to the kitchen counter,

directing his lenses

at my eyes

© Copyright 2024 by Jørn A Jensen