Dec05

“What would I like for Christmas?”He wrestled with that questionAs he barrelled through the airEnding his expected journeyWith his shoulders splinteringThe flimsy announcer’s table,Which compliantly disintegrated beneath himTo the hazing jeers of a distant crowd.As he squared up to theSubstance of that questionHe was rudely interruptedBy a metal chair slashingAcross his bruise-mottled back.”Perhaps a nice…