Penelope Poubelle's "On Leftovers"

It has become standard editorial practice on holidays for The Lookout to publish a special edition spotlighting recent subscription growth and coverage. But I just ran one of those a few weeks ago for Halloween, and frankly, nothing has changed since that’s significant enough to bear mention. So instead of running another holiday clip show, I asked Penelope Poubelle, The Lookout’s litter critter-at-large, to compose some longer-form verse to kick off the holiday season in earnest. As always, she delivered.

Hope everybody had a lovely Thanksgiving yesterday, resists the urge to waste money on barely “discounted” Amazon schlock today, and has plans to spread some dollars around our neighborhood’s small businesses tomorrow. The Lookout will be back in your inbox next week with a very special announcement. Until then, take care, and enjoy the leftovers.—Dave.

📜 On Leftovers

Year in and year out, as I paw through your trash,
Through rotten veggies, stale bread, and eggs all a-smash;
I dream of the the day, my favorite of the season,
When y’all toss out so much turkey that it defies reason.

Do you not see all this meat, still left on the bone?!
Perhaps it’s that a dull carving knife you must hone?

It makes me feel silly, the amount of good fowl,
That winds up in your bin for me to pack my jowl.

Don’t get me wrong, your loss is very much my gain,
Each year on this November weekend, I gorge to the point of pain.

But my heavens! My stars! It’s every damn block!
I encounter a carcass that would’ve made a rich stock!

Of course, I’ll savor mashed potatoes gone funky,
Or even vegan stuffing gone gunky,
Or even that one carton of heavy cream gone chunky.
Hell, with a hardened pie crust, I might even get a bit dunky.

But the turkey! The bird! The poultry! The beast!
As it turns in your fridge, I prepare for my feast!

All year this old gal stuffs with garbage her pie hole;
But this weekend of cramming? It’s like my Super Bowl.

So as y’all watch your football, shop local, and snooze,
And maybe even try to sweat out all that holiday booze,
Don’t forget your pal Penelope, out back awaits,
The remains of the spread that yesterday graced your plates.

In the alley I’ll be, when your leftovers get too rubbery to chew,
Rubbing my paws in anticipation, and being thankful for you.

Possum Poetry is original verse written exclusively for The Lookout by Penelope Poubelle, the Lookout’s litter critter-at-large. If you spot roadside trash you’d like her to immortalize in doggerel, email a photo to [email protected]. All submissions anonymous!