THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PRESENTS PAST
On our twelfth year’s Christmas we tried
To find ourselves the kind of couple who
Swings but instead it became you me &
A third wheel who all but wrapped mouths
Around our ornamented curriculum vitae
Blushing we offered ourselves peppermint
Party shooters w/ a real bad name Santa’s
Frosty Nipple or Vixen Didn’t Get None bc
RJ got too drunk to enjoy open marriages
Too drunk to watch the busboy ask to be
Our lover bc I thought you wanted to brag
About this love that ppl want you to share
Goodwill is a warehouse full of forgotten
Christmas presents here is a shovel: now dig
THE GHOSTING OF CHRISTMAS PRESENT
Sometimes you’ve got to throw yourself
Out there & come in & know me better
Man like when you tried to mansplain
A Christmas Carol to a Dickens scholar
Or reinvent the way ship sails cascade
Through the river like a family of swans
I don’t blame you for trying to make the
Best out of a cold holiday in the mountains
Even for underestimating unwritten poetry
Except you can be everywhere all at once
A river peppered w/ white birds flightless
Until the down falls into the cold banks
This was supposed to be a thirst trap
Instead it’s a poem about moving on
THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS YET TO CUM
The thing is I know I invited you over but
You didn’t tell me that when you take your
Shirt off a pimple would be waiting for me
On your shoulder blades the kind my mom
Would pop for us when we couldn’t reach
And I can’t think of anything less sexy than
My mother popping strange men’s pimples
Except I don’t ask you to leave I pretend
It’s the two of us on our honeymoon you
Shaking martinis & me in a feathered robe
We’ve escaped the world for long enough
I invite you over to pour my drink & when
You slide your shirt off I grab the fucker
Between my knuckles & out pops Endora