the dead
christmas tree from the house
and chucking
it far into the woods.
the ornaments still on it.
the lights.
the angel hair and tinsel.
i said some unchristmasy
things as i flung
the tree over the fence,
down towards the creek.
squirrels ducking out of
the way, saying what the
hell is going on here?
after that, i went in to rip
the mistletoe from the archway,
the candles, the fruit cake
and tossed them
down the hill.
i looked in the fridge
with hands on my hips,
pondering what next, but
then said,
i think i'll keep the spiral
ham, there's so much of
it left and i like it.
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