Yeah, Merry Whatever
Fighting with the sticky tape,
that’s my idea of fun –
presents all around and I’ve not
wrapped a single one.
Scissors blunt and battered
cut a funny jagged path,
a little trail of crimson shows
the bloody aftermath.
Ribbon strangulation is
a curious event;
the world is rosy-coloured when
your air is nearly spent.
Vernacular unladylike
is hanging in the air --
now I wish I’d bought more boxed-up
socks and underwear.
Damn, I’ve no more eyebrows where
the sticky tape has been,
my finger sports a dreadful gash,
my language is obscene.
Scissors fly across the room
(that’s quite a cunning stunt),
think they would have killed the dog
if they were not so blunt.
That’s the end: I cannot stand
this inhumanity!
Gift bags purchased from the shop
will save my sanity.
What’s that? The shop’s not open?
But it’s Christmas Eve, you fool!
It seems instead of joy and cheer,
here chaos is the rule.
The stores must be conspiring –
it’s an anti-service club.
That’s it! Christmas is cancelled
and I’m going to the pub.