art is

first you get the turkey,

 take him for a long walk, shake his hand,

wack  his head off, cook him at three- fifty

or  thereabouts,  bones an’ all

a long, long time.

leave ‘em dry  outside  on the picnic table in the sun,

many suns and moons.

 take notes or will I have to repeat myself?

then  come back in like twelve years

make sure it’s like twelve years, think dozen.

take any bones you find or pieces thereof

and stack it or ‘em.  the process is

kinda like  how you  bake a cake from scratch

only if you pile it nice you call it art.   

pretty slick.  got it?

don ‘t try to eat anything, it’ll make you sick;

art is for looking and to have feelings about.