I am a slight and lesser man,

With added prunes

To keep me regular.

 

My Christmas feast,

Chicken stew with added sprouts,

Is splattering the microwave.

 

I shall pull a festive cracker,

Eat dinner wearing a paper hat.

 

Lost in love

Hobbled by fervent hope, 

I stood in siling rain

Gently pebbling my lover’s window.

The curtains stayed closed,

The welcome lamp unlit.

 

I walked away, turned,

Walked away, turned.

 

Wept the bitter pathway home.

 

I was an ‘incidental’

A third spear  

In the chorus

Of her opera buffo.

 

I gave my love freely

To simple souls

Who could not cope

With my profligacy,

 

And smooth-tongued liars,

Gilt-edged promise peddlers,

Spinners of wondrous dreams.

 

“Let us banquet on newborn quail,

In a hot air balloon

High over Machu Picchu.”

 

“Let us sail a stately brigantine

In coats of alligator fur

Through mists of unicorn breath

On uncharted emerald seas.”

 

No Charon ferries me 

Through black ink spindrift seas

Sodden flotsam surrounds me.

Everything.

Everyone.

Ebbs away.

 

For dessert;

A box of ‘Twisters’

With ‘sensuous smooth hazelnut filling’.

 

Washed down with antacids,

Antacids and tea.