Very good. Love the fact that it's vague but very personal at the same time. I assume from this you're writing about family arguments and Thanksgiving, and let me tell you- I can relate. I actually love reading this. 

Great metaphors throughout.  This feels very 20th century in its style and with the types of metaphors it uses: coarse, grim, very subtle, very indirect.  A lot of this type of poetry can be esoteric and hard to interpret.  However the message of your piece is clear as day, and that is an accomplishment.

I love the splitting of sentences across stanzas, and the second person. The poem itself feels super natural, you can definitely feel the voice behind it. If there was one thing to look at, maybe, it'd be diction - that's the only thing messing with the natural-ness of it.

I won't attack them unless   
they attack me in this year   
of the relative term.   


This is the allegory  
for an ungrowing claw. Finch   
at Starbucks given a red cup. 


Not the one with my name  
on it but the bled out turkey.  
The brine that makes salt  


hard enough to survive a heart.  
Our collective beating heart.  
The drum of a broken bone  


call to compassion which rings   
a dull joke in this year of   
the relative fascism.  


The conversation is not  
a conversation and that is one   
indicator. This is a guide  


on how to grow swords  
using the fertilizer of your throat.  
This is a guide on how to dig   


a moat inside your own   
aptitude for too many   
blindbird principles.  


This is a suggestion not   
to fight over wishbones.  

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https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/5ejvi3/up_in_smoke/dad4ikl

 
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/5efx96/spider_death/dad4q5i

Table It