christmax



MAX DREAMS OF CHRISTMAS

Is it through those whiskers
or the satelitte of your ears
searching to pick up
santa's sleigh and
undreamed of Whiskers
dripping with jelly.

I know you know Max
Your eyes search mine
and I hear you.


Is it the rain pattering on my roof
or your unholy pursuit
of Loulou that disturbs my sleep tonight.

The Ghosts of Christmas pasts
tremble at your pace
as does Loulou on my  mantlepiece
Instead of a red stocking.
'Stop  it Max
I cry but none of my neighbours hear
Stone walls from revolutions past
allow only the ghosts of this house
to listen to my wild shouts.

Ghosts of my own Christmas past
loom trying to blot out
the silence of Christmas
the Descend once more
To help us.

Oh where was I,
yes Max and his turbulent
affair with Loulou
his limping white foot
just about the right shape
for a christmas stocking.

foutoux copyright 2017'

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