Santa! Down Here.

The sticky, candy-coated popcorn,
that’s what he bought, when he got luck.

Those little packs of sticky
came with a balloon. Reds, orange,
yellow and blues, hope,
but there’s only one in each.

A pack of six, balloons, that is,
sealed in plastic,
held together with card
and steel clips, in three square inches,
that’s what I always wish, for Christmas;

it’s no extra weight,
he can keep it in his pocket
and throw it from the sleigh
on the way to rich kid chimneys,
so why doesn’t Santa ever remember me?

Maybe he isn’t real,
I can’t decide, but I swear,
some day, I’m going to be stinking rich,
and every year, at Christmas,
I’m going to send balloons,
to poor kids everywhere. And a pack of sticky.

One Response to “Santa! Down Here.”
  1. What? You changed your email address on me? Stopped writing? What did I do?

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