something’s bloody heave
modern christmas
the advert calendar
i just don’t buy it
whose blood is it anyway
on the holly and the ivy
no idea why
the bees that make the honey
sting the sore surely quickly
suck your finger fast and
taste the sweet blood of tradition
as it always was
so it always will be
unless you blow out the candle
until then it will remain forever
something on someone else’s eve
i’ll leave it there
under the christmas tree
for thee
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