by Jack Prelutsky

The turkey shot out of the oven
and rocketed into the air.
It knocked every plate off the table
and partly demolished a chair.

It ricocheted into a corner
and burst with a deafening boom;
Then splattered all over the kitchen,
completely obscuring the room.

It stuck to the walls and the windows;
it totally coated the floor.
There was turkey attached to the ceiling
where there'd never been turkey before.

It blanketed every appliance;
it smeared every saucer and bowl.
There wasn't a way I could stop it;
that turkey was out of control!

I scraped and I scrubbed with displeasure
and thought with chagrin as I mopped;
That I'd never again stuff a turkey
with popcorn that hadn't been popped.