the message

The Christmas message? Of course we watched
us on the lemonade, Dad on the scotch
pumped with turkey and trifle and chocs
from a ravaged Cadbury’s selection box
Morecambe & Wise, The Great Escape
the whole disreputable family draped
like a tideline of excess across the furniture
alternately toasting and roasting Her
as she smiled and carefully delivered her script
words serenely and queenily clipped
in a room that wouldn’t have lasted five minutes
with a sprawling family like our one in it
cheap cracker crowns all torn and chucked
on the carpet with the wrappings and boxes and stuff

And of course, time passes
in one unholy mess of Christmasses
the heat of the living room long since dissipated
and who would’ve anticipated
the things you come to miss amongst the wreckage
Dad in his cups, a Christmas message

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