(20 minute poetry)

The elves are convening a meeting
to decide
on the wording of this year's
Christmas greeting

Merry's so passé
and not very classy
Happy is no longer apt

humbug's a slam dunk
and matches the krap junk
they'll sell in the shops.

The voting stops when Claus comes in
and ain't he looking very thin?
but everyone has to tighten their belts
even the reindeer have got cheaper pelts

so
Humbug it is then
no merry gentlemen
just lords a leaping
keeping
the aristocracy
fit.

Meanwhile
the Pound shop's sold out of pounds
dogs roaming wild
as Mary's boy child sleeps rough in a doorway on
Christmas Day in the yawning
chasm.