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.
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