the holiday spirit

you decide to become
a holiday person.
you buy a red
sweater, a red
tie with little
green wreathes down
the front. you buy
a tree with lights,
and a set of silver
and blue ornaments.
you string multiple
sets of lights
along the front of
your house to best
the neighbor's paltry
attempt at being
festive. you hang
stockings on the
fireplace mantle.
six of them despite
the fact that you
live alone. you toy
with the idea of nylon
stockings, but think
better of it. you keep
putting change into
the salvation army
bucket where the
tired santa's helper
has been ringing that
bell since a week before
thanksgiving. you give
him some advil for his
arm. you begin to greet
everyone with a loud,
merry christmas. ho
ho ho. this
goes on for a couple
of days, or more,
but then you realize
that you still have
three more weeks to
go before christmas
and that keeping
this up would be
a cup of crazy. so
you buy some eggnog
and a good bottle
of johnny walker
black, and you get
comfy in the big
chair, with your cell
phone, your laptop
and your little dog
with his miniature
antler rack
on his head. you
take a swig from
your large glass
of eggnog, point
the remote at the
tv and you
see if there are
any holiday games on.