He was much to big to handle.
They grappled and wrangled.
An enormous tangle.
He was so cold.
So crystallised.
His skin was wet.
Embellished with designer stubble.

The crystals became fluid.
Titian drops, dripped.
So ran a river.

Needed a vessel to give him a roasting.
Alas, it was not found.
My Christmas turkey cooked passionately.
Ready for the special day.
Standing upright in the oven tray.
(C) LIVVI