On Christmas

All about him
the events gather
though the people no longer do

and neither do they me
and my virgin journey
to harvest past and present sowings

yes darling
it could mean nothing
if you'd just allow it to

the wait could be endured
the accommodation
the immaculate breech combing

the preparation
of a cute ass of burden
and gifts of myrrh for Gommorah

and the adoration
of the Magi that was extraneous
except for politics, which never is

the Roman feasts
and our wastrel waistlines
the unities, the concretisation

of good things done
and embraces
and all you think of is future focussed crystals

as no cards are written
and you get Christmas phone texts
from people you no longer know as a name

and annually remember you
drunk with very important hi-there's
for which we're all grateful.