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#achristmascarol
Christmas past is always framed with melancholic gilt though its broad strokes show no love held is ever truly lost Christmas present as the Polaroid is shook takes time to reveal itself best when pressed in the pages of the whole story Christmas future’s binary seems pixel cold, clinical, bed-ridden fears looming but, my dears, don’t fret: we’ll get what we deserve
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Dec 24, 2021
Dec 24, 2021 at 5:48 AM UTC
Mr Dickens said
Why am I waking up now? (sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCM) "A Christmas Carol's" been plaguing for intents The season since the nineteenth cent'ry'd hail That crucifixion of the kindest' tale, With strains a waltzing in the other thence, "The Nutcracker" a mystry whose pretense Of joy falls flat likeas the first's detail, If one look closely. Tout the lie as bail And sing the carols door to door for sense. We learned the darker aspect of as twere This highest hol'day of the year which'd woo, Oer thirty years 'go. With naught left but's poor, Why do I wish all well with season's cue? Am I confused? Why deck the halls, bestir Lit tree, and eggnog? LORD, save me, won't You? 20Dec25b
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Dec 25, 2025
Dec 25, 2025 at 1:08 PM UTC
Wassail Was Never Our Style