Masses with their packages
Christmas cards galore,
Simple folk who pick and poke
on the bargain basement floor,
Holiday music fills the airways,
Jingle peace in a midnight Santa manger,
people couldn’t act any stranger
than they usually do, but
it’s Christmastime, and
anything is possible.
There is no time to stand in line,
but lines still do overflow,
especially on this Monday,
ten days before “the show”
Sending packages to Aunt Flo,
cards to cousin Mary Jo,
certificates to I don’t know,
and miles to weep before I go.
A Postal Inspector at wits end,
stamping, pasting, weighing
waiting for the end of day,
heading home in a one horse open sleigh,
torn between showing for work
for more of this madness tomorrow,
or hitting the roof with the
Magnum. “Merry Christmas this!”
punctuated by ricochet sounds
and the fluff of large snowflakes
and body count hitting the pavement.
But, suppressing a sneer,
he’ll be right here to guide you,
getting your presents there on time.
But over at UPS, “Going Parcel”
will be a real certainty.

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