Christmas Is Five Days Dead

Evergreen corpses strewn on sidewalks like victims of plague, still adorned with specks of tinsel abandoned and forlorn once welcome houseguests now in the street never to greet another New Year all the presents unwrapped put in proper place beside last years loot of sweaters, records and notebooks never got written in nothing to drink and no money for the bar the food all gone except for leftovers that no longer appear appetizing to the eyes of yuletide withdrawal I walk down the street and see no one, all the decorations down on television Jimmy Stewart kisses Donna Reed for eternity and here I am.