Monday, December 26, 2005

A CHRISTMAS HANGOVER

IT'S LIKE A HANGOVER, POST-CHRISTMAS MORN,
BLUE YET BLUSHED WITH MEMORIES
ONE YEAR IN THE MAKING THAT
AFTERNOON WHEN SOBRIETY'S UNDONE.
TONGUES WERE LOOSED, LIPS COMPLIMENTARY,
SELECTED ARMS ENTWINED. THE VISIT BEGAN.
THE BUZZ, THE WARMTH, THE RUSH OF THE FAMILIAL
GATHERED UNTO ITSELF WITHOUT POINTING FINGERS.
NO REFRESHMENTS WITH PROOFS PRESENT
BUT SPIRITS WERE HIGH. LIGHTS TWINKLED,
GLOWED, SPARKLED WITHIN, ON A REVOLVING ,
RIBBONED LATTICE OF A FIBER OPTIC DISPLAY.
A CAMCORDER RECORDED WHATEVERS,
UNAFFECTED BY DREARY WEATHER WITHOUT:
FLICKS OF HUMOR, CHOKING SILENCES,
THREE TIERS OF PERCEPTION,
REFLECTING THE OVER-ARCHING THEME,
REGARDING LESS EMBARRASSMENTS
THAN IMBIBED RELATIONASHIPS,
PRINTING SILENT UNDERSTANDINGS,
AND REPRIEVE FROM PERSONAE EXPOSED.
GATHERED ARE BELIEVERS WITHOUT DOGMA
BUT WITH GOOD WILL THAT HOLDS.
ACTION SWIRLS HAPPILY WITH TRADITION.
THE TIME-HONORED COOKIES DISTRIBUTED,
PRE-TESTED BY THE TEETH OF A RADAR-NOSED DOG.
THE FEAR OF GERM WARFARE A THING OF PAST
WHAT WITH PETS PERENNIALLY PRESENT.
MANDATORY UNWRAPPINGS COMMENCED.
A RANDOM CHECK. PAPER CRUSHED AND HURLED,
BY THE GIGGLING WHIMSY OF TINY, INNOCENT
ARMS AND HANDS. NO WORDS OF 'THANKS.'
DUSK INEVITABLY DESCENDS, SMUDGING LIGHT
BUT NOT CLARIFICATION. VOICES FACILITATED
BY PHONE CARDS RING IN FROM AFAR.

I AWAKE WITH POST-PRESENTS DEPRESSION -
A DOWNER THAT BEGS TO BE FORGOTTEN -
EMBATTLED WITH A MIND'S TEMPTATIONS
TO REGRET THE EMPTY SPACES OF LOVE,
THE ABANDONED PEWS IN CHURCH.
BLUBBERING FILLS THE EMPTY SPACE,
TEARS OF FAITH MY CONSOLATION.
'IT'S THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS.'
FORGIVENESS IS THE 'REASON FOR THE SEASON'.
DEATH IS NOT THE MANDATORY SENTENCE
FOR A NIGHT'S LAPSE, THAT'S FOR THE DRUNKARD.
IS MY CHRISTMAS LIKE YOUR CHRISTMAS?
AS RUSHED, REGRETFUL OR WONDERFDUL ?
MY RELIEF IS THAT OF THE 101ST AIRBORNE
AT THE BATTLE OF THE BULGE, DECEMBER 26TH
WHEN HELP FROM THE 4TH ARMORED DIVISION ARRIVED!

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