Globetrotter

Tim had dreamt of magic mountains but was stuck in a snow globe Luckily there was some antifreeze in the little dome on his desk Used as a paperweight for discarded inked upon manuscript pages A complete stark nativity scene directed wilfully by Father Christmas Who looked like a hobgoblin lost in translation waiting for the storm Weary for wear after a day out in the shops on a very Black Friday Tim felt more like Robinson escaping from his treasured island Preparing messages in a bottle of palm juice for seasonal greetings There was no Santa Claus on his mind swirling with the natives It’s a pagan charade which escaped from the Holy Book in contempt Of meaning and humility as well as a festival of love and compassion They might as well have created frosted cornflakes dancing on a dolphin Tim’s script needed editing but a Gingerbread Man distracted his thoughts While Mother Mary cuddled her cute firstborn on the way to Galapagos Unaware of bloody nails and the cross born from post-partum blood Hark the Herald Angels but his hero was a mermaid growing more fins Searching for freedom and laughter as the chorus went forth to multiply The many voices competing to take centre stage in verses and rhythm I don’t need imposters or false prophets pirouetting under glass ceilings But equality and empowerment to disperse fake opium for the masses And yet the flakes drifting in his mind resembled cocaine for the few Scrooge entered his senses and Pinocchio stumbling over his nose Who fell through a trap door and was eaten alive by wild reindeer Starved by the powers that be in the slaughterhouse aside frozen turkeys Foul smelling odour scraped his nostrils and scarped a cliff face of doubt Maybe he should write a novel about unicorns on their way to Nirvana When Tim awoke it was Easter and rabbits had escaped from the burrow 27th November 2019