My shaved-head-pierced-
Gay-pride-shirt-wearing best friend
Came to Thanksgiving this year.
Though proud to say,
“Meat is murder,” among her
Fellow vegetarians,
She only shook her head
Politely when the turkey was
Passed her way on a silver platter,
Slow-roasted for twelve hours.
My Sicilian grandmother just tutted,
She had always insisted that
Everyone loved a good sausage link,
Of course, turkey wasn’t any different.
She plopped a piece of dark and light,
“See what you like better,”
she grinned and moved onto the next person.
Surrounded by people who would
Never admit vegetarianism for fear of disownment,
She ate her salad quietly around the turkey.