Fire burning over memories of Christmas

Santa is riding high into the silk sky

But he cannot come here with Brexit a tie

 

Donna chewed on Santa’s long toenails

As he snoozed on Blitzen’s fat belly

 

Where streaks of Pollock green ache

Like August clouds

 

In love with feathers and glass

As the fires take it all away

 

Widened eyes of the dirtiest faces

As waxen thoughts ooze.

 

If we realize we have time,

We can do Christmas differently.

 

Poor Mad Tony! – overtaking

celestial 192’s –

The prisoner's love telescopes the sky

For Santa’s magic sleigh

 

Tijuana trumpets on the roaring Tube –

Good, Bad and Ugly.