Month: December 2023

Round Midnight

There’s a word for what it feels like
To be stuck without a verse
With a deadline fast approaching
But I’ll settle for a curse

I should have planned this better
And had poems on the shelf
But I blew two dozen hours
And can only blame myself

Apologies to readers
Who expected something good
Though with benefit of hindsight
Can’t imagine why you would

I’m writing this as quickly
As my thumbs can hit the keys
And if it rhymes and it’s on time
The mouse’ll eat this cheese

I’m sorry for the rush job
And I’m glad you happened by
I may not top this next time
But I promise you I’ll try

A Traditional Holiday Beating

The pacifist within me fears
Tomorrow’s day of all the year’s
And not because I’ll need detoxing:
I’m just not that good at boxing.
Yes, it helps my arms are long
So when they land my blows are strong
By dint of Archimedes’ lever.
Still, opponents quick or clever
(Or who brought from home a fulcrum)
Soon discern I won’t seppulchr’em
Absent fortune’s intervention
(Or some ploys I dare not mention
Lest they then be used on me)
Which forces fightless me to flee
Which means in turn I’m never where
They drop off the empartridged pear
Of which the UPS folk sing.
So much for making welkins ring.

A Visit From “Saint” Nicholas

This isn’t the letter I wanted to write,
And up front, I’m still planning to drop by tonight
With some gifts for the kids, but I’ll likely be late
So it’s probably best if they don’t try to wait.
I still have my key, so I won’t need to knock
To get in (that’s assuming you’ve not changed the lock
Like you threatened you would when we argued last time).
If the kids made those cookies, please tell them that I’m
Really sorry that I couldn’t be there to taste ’em.
(I’d say leave a plate, but I don’t want to waste ’em,
And anyway, cookies are better with milk.)
I’ll be quick, in and out…like that night with the silk
Dress and stockings! Remember? The ones that we burned
Making out by the fire? If only I’d learned
What was good for me — us — way back then, and not wander,
We might’ve tonight had more stockings to launder.
But anyway, tell the kids I’ll make it right,
And to have a good Christmas. To all, a good night.

It’s The Thought

The antepenultimate shopping day’s past
The non-obvious last-minute gifts have gone fast
And the shelves are as empty as Bob Cratchit’s purse
(Not that merchants would give up their goods for a verse)
So it’s lottery scratch-offs and Twizzlers again
From the neighborhood Gas-n-Go. Maybe they’ll win
And for once they won’t blame you for not having boughten
A good Christmas present because you’ve forgotten
To earn enough money or get a good job
In the year since the last one, you miserly slob.
One day when you’re rich you can buy a big yacht
And surprise them. Until then, again, it’s the thought…