Friday 30 November 2012

#7 - Christmas Number One

I open the door to find Papa dressed as Santa,
trousers round his pale, freckled ankles,
bellowing a loose instrumental pastiche of Jingle Bells
while urinating into the fireplace.

He peers over his shoulder,
eyes like electrical fires:
'I'm sober as a fucking judge,' he breaths,
unsmiling, his piss striking the hearth,

sending up flames purple as cracker hats.

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