Roasting chestnuts in the fireplace smell nice
the children play with their toys
the uncles drink beer
the aunts squabble in the kitchen
I sip eggnog
and watch Grandma try to smoke a Hickory Farms salami.
There are some things in life that you never forget no matter what.
Like the first time we kissed,
and the night I ate that bad crab salad.
Once there was a guy named Jeff.
He worked at a coffin factory
in charge of mentally challenged adults.
They all loved him,
he was their fwend
and mine too.
He had a big belly, long, bristly beard, and a great goony laugh
that could startle children.
Jeff was sad sometimes,
he drank too much and died young.
It sucks when people die.
Miss you, fwend!
(Poor Jeff. He really deserves a much better poem. I wish I was capable of writing him one.)
My internet paramour Mister Underhill and I have started a blog for our terrible poetry and other angsty silliness. Click here if you want to check it out. I know it really needs some color. We are dithering over the template. Any suggestions are welcome.