Christmas Eve

Starless Trees Spike Their Shadows
Across A Pool Of Dead Insects,

Their Christ-Head Trunks Mass
Like A Gang Of Dumb Assassins.

Lurking To Smash Any Trace Of Magic –
They Will Find The Cauldron Dry, Should They Swoop.

Winter Breaks England, My Heart Smothered In A Hat And Scarf Is There,
My Head Is Here – Boiled In An Oven.

There Are Hawks For Company – Bigger Than Turkeys Some,
Maybe I’ll Catch One And Tomorrow, Cook It With My Head.

The Fountain Is A Drill Of Loneliness
It Spurts And Is Swallowed Up. The Lake Means Nothing To It.

An Empty Plate Awaits St. Nick
Not Even A Chimney To Sweep Down, Or A Stocking To Fill.

This Night Nothing Stirs, Once Twas A Night – Now Is Just Another Night.

A Silver Chocolate Penny Crossed Like A Celtic Headstone Lights Eve,
Wait! I Can See Eight Reindeer Ride Across Her Face!

Ha! Good Ol’ John Barleycorn!

Christmas Morning

He Hasn’t Been… He Hasn’t Been…
St. Nick, Where The Hell Are You?
Did You Get Lost?
Did You Collide With Some Of Your Elves?
Or Get Held Up In The Sky By A Tailback Of Shooting Stars?
Or Is It Because There’s No Snow Here? I’m Sure That Must Be It!
I Know You Would Not Have Just Gone And Forgotten Me… Or Missed Me Out
I Mean, I’ve Been Good This Year…
It’s Ok Though Mr Claus – I Can Open My Stomach. There’s A Cleaver In The Kitchen…
I’m Joking – There Isn’t A Cleaver…
Anyway, I Have U-571 To Watch…
…and East 17 On The Radio…
I Am The Luckiest Man Alive! I May Stay Another Day!
So Don’t Feel Bad… What More Could A Person Want?

No…you Must Have Hidden My Present… That’s The Only Explanation…
… Nothing In The Drugs Cupboard… Or The Knife Draw…
Lots Of Razors In The Bathroom Cabinet But Nothing That Looks Like A Present…
Nothing Along The Fifteen Foot Roof Beams… Anything In That Oven…?
No… No No No!
You Murderer Dressed In Red, Which Was Once Green Anyway…, Your Ruddy Complexion, You Alcoholic…
Hold On… What’s This?
Oh… Just My Copy Of The Goddam Catcher In The Rye…
I’d Forgotten I’d Hauled It…
Plus A Book About Barthes And Todorov…
I Can Kill Somebody Famous Then Justify It With Semiotics…
…you Liar With Your Sack Of Death, You Spiteful Hermit With Only Beasts To Keep You Warm… And That Lapland Ice-Shop You Keep…
…so Many Names You Have Father… Chriskindl, Babbo Natale, Papa Noel, Jultomten, Sinter Klaas, Pere Noel
Santa Claus… You Bastard, We’re Through!

Christmas Night

Silent Night
Silent Night
Silent Night

Is There Something To Be Said For Solitude At Christmas?
Across The Lake I Heard A Family Quarrel About Broken Toys And Overdone Ham,
I Spoke To Three Friends About Their Rows, Arguments And Tears…
Their Eastender Bawling – They Should Love Its Common Maul.

The Silver Penny Is Lopsided And Teary,
An Unselected Chocolate Left In The Coffin Box.

There Is Nothing New To Look At.

No Wrapping-Paper Filled Bag.

No Left-Over Dinner For The Craw.

No Hugs Of Love And Goodnight Kisses.

Just Sledged Lives And Fading Light,

Fallen Angels And Me.

• The Story Of Pauline, Karen And Rosalind
• Not Even Their Kindness
• The Last Exit
• Mum, Don't Be Late