the holiday carving

she takes the carving knife
from her husband, saying
let me do this, sit down,
and thinks for a second
of stabbing him
with it, cutting right through
the red flannel shirt
he's wearing to his inept
heart, but
instead shakes her head disdainfully
and slices off
the white meet
in thin perfect slices.
she places them next to the wounded
lumps that he
carved, and the broken
bone of a drumstick
that you once had your eye
on.