The horsepeople sit,
presents opened,
paper torn, discarded
on every bit
of slightly empty floor,
a shredded paper wonderland.
Daisy the cat and dog bound excitedly
through the foil wrapping,
dog yapping in joy.
The scent of brussel sprouts
wafts over the air, lingers for a bit
then decides to make itself at home,
becoming one with the furniture.
Where it will stay for weeks,
an unwanted guest
that you can't ask to leave,
who has just happily poured
himself another large drink,
and started a whole new story,
which promises to go nowhere
but take days to get there.
The smell of sage and onion,
become a union
stuffing the atmosphere
with their own special brand
of Christmas cheer.
Turkey sizzling in the oven/
So why then is the mood so sullen?
"I am sooo bored.
Once you've opened your presents that's it.
Waiting for dinner,
waiting for anything
that isn't a repeat on tv"
"Ha! that'll be the day,
no repeats that will be
when the apocalypse
comes our way"
"Nothing is open, it's just empty.
I’m itching to do something.
Anything"
"You could help peel the spuds"
"Okay I'll rephrase, I’ll do anything good!"
"The king will be on TV soon.
He will have something interesting to say I'm sure"
"Not likely, I've heard more
interesting Christmas dinner snores"
"Here, pull a cracker"
The two horsepeople,
the one that likes to bring pain
and the one that ends it,
take both ends of the cracker and pull.
Crack
Bang.
"Where are the prizes?"
"It hasn't cracked,
that was my wrist"
Death says wincing,
trying to entice dog to drop
the broken hand from its mouth.
Thanks for reading
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