eating christmas

The gift is wrapped in course paper,
in the color of overheated cinders.
Entwined with a red ribbon,
I opened it and I saw you.
Forcedly closing the lid down,
you escaped with so much ease.

There was nothing I can do,
so I let you.

You went to our dining room
and gluttony encounters our fruitcake and roast turkey.
You ate the crystals, spoons, and forks.

You grinned at every guest
and shredded the letters they brought.
You ate the envelopes.

You played with the children
and tricked them in every game.
You ate all the prizes.

You outran us outside when midnight came
and burned the variety of firecrackers we had.
You ate the falling ashes.

You hunched under the table
and ripped our presents open.
You ate the wrappers.

You shook our well-decorated tree
and broke all the lights.
You ate the glass balls.

You finally approached our house’s highlight
and threw the littlest figure away.
You ate the rest of the nativity scene.

Since there was nothing I can do,
I swallowed our mistletoe
then took a poinsettia for your casket.
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