Happy Holidays,

it was always worth a try

to inject a phrase into a time

to which I feel no connection.

Happy Christmas, goes, goes, goes

to the back of the pile,

not one for the season of Santa

and his air traffic controlled nose

reindeer, Blitzen and adding

Donner meat to the Kebab

rammed down the throat, drunk

on Christmas Eve, traffic cone on head

and singing loudly at midnight.

Having worked in retail and in catering,

the best thing about it was willing