Poet Authority Poem Terminal

She drenched her body,

From head to toe.

Then got out and texted her friend.

'I've had a bath' she said.

She planned on doing it again tomorrow.

He looked at it (or them).

Contemplated how to get them back in,

With a sad look on his face.

And arranged a date with Gina.

He interrupted her diatribe about work or whatever,

Something he wasn't paying attention to is the point.

Told her she really ought to be his girlfriend

That he'd already bought the bike.

Started coming out of his mouth too.

This is what he was living with.

He wasn't a fan.

Plonk was handed a present.

The panic set in.

Carefully he peeled back a piece of tape,

You know, really slowly.

Really panicking.

The audience urged him to set upon the paper

As it slowly disintegrated beneath his sweaty palms.

Peter Kay,

Somewhere near by,

Remembers them being tins.

Mork wasn't interested.

He spent Christmas in bed recovering.

With another tub,

Less fondly remembered.

Organised a bit of a protest.

Colossal signs were clonked through major cities.

With slogans against nuclear weapons, mainly.

Concerned these things might put them out of a job.

Santa couldn't believe what he was seeing.

One of those little twerps,

Trying to step on his turf.

Which almost rhymes,

Or does rhyme,

With his name,

If you pronounce it badly.

This pleased Gunther.

His smile was large.

At the funfair.

He planned on wearing it to the office.

He hoped for comments,

Something about the holiday spirit would do.

Something about being festive.

Considered having a child.

They got in touch with their friends,

Asked if any would be willing to take it off their hands,

Should they go off the idea.

Greg practised for his hospital visit.

He started wearing a shirt backwards,

And occasionally slice himself open.

She liked it.

She would have preferred it was burgers,

She supposes.

But as cows go,

It was decent.

He began crying.

Ordered servants to gather up his tears,

And get digging.

Things were very different from what he knew.

He didn't like it.

He went back home and ate some buttered toast.

This year she'd forgo the heating in favour of them.

She sat indoors,

Pretended she was a snowman,

Felt quite festive.

Asked what it would cost to have their drivers wear the iconic red and white gear,

And work on Christmas morning.

He had some of the lads there wash it.

Polish it up nicely for the season.

He demanded they wear little green hats with bells on,

And insisted on seeing his reflection in the sleigh's filigree. 

Chocolate, delicious!

But not enough.

He opened days 2-24 too.

Briefly happy,

Then sad.