the fruitcake

the carolers,
bunched together with
sheet music,
cold blooms of air
rising
from their o shaped mouths,
shivering in front of your house.
singing,
so hard to block
it out,
the dog howls,
you stand at the kitchen
window
and wave, shirtless,
holding a mug
of iced bourbon.
you wish you could join
them,
to be that selfless
and cheerful,
but you can't, not today.
you set a fruit cake
out on the stoop for them,
as a token of
appreciation,
you yell out, take it.
please, thank you.
it's for you my merry
friends.