Coles has stopped selling cream
Woollies has had a run on sherry
silent night holy night
weary gentlemen
lay down their sweet head
reports from family members:
the toilet needs a proper clean some toxic white bleach
she hasn't spoken to me in a few months
I saw cat hairs all over the breadboard
I can't be bothered to wish anyone a Merry Christmas
the TV doesn't work ... still ...
the oven died
half way through Christmas Eve dinner
the flat line tone starts echoing:
Christmas doesn't mean anything
it doesn't matter
it's just
another
day
pigeons are slapping wings, rhythmically, in his front lobby
picking at coloured cat biscuits
in the painted pottery bowls
I hate them, she says, they're just like rats with wings
he rings her at 6 am: I've just found the perfect bowl for the salad
then again at 6:15am: I think we should have icecream and blue berries
at 7:00 he phones to say he's changed the menu
then at 7:05 to say he's using the white and gold dinner set
because the blue set won't go
with the embroidered table cloth
half way through Christmas Eve dinner
sauerkraut blood sausage potatoes pork
at the time when you just know other families
have to be toasting each other, clink-clinking crystal glasses
my mother turns to my brother:
This is the last time I bring cat food for your bloody cats
why don't you call the SPCA
just admit it - you can't look after them
have them taken away
half way through Christmas Eve dinner
you're wishing laughing out loud not wishing
this was someone else's family
the Nordic gloom: doesn't matter doesn't mean anything just another day
flying rats blood sausages dead appliances flying rats
flap, slap ...
Fantastic. I loved this. I have lived through many a Christmas like this, sadly enough.
ReplyDeleteThanks Claine - glad you loved the poem but sad to hear you've lived through a few Christmas's like my ones!
ReplyDeleteI love this too.
ReplyDeleteThanks Efi :)
ReplyDelete