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Home: Writings: Holiday Blues: Silver Bells

Silver Bells

Crowded sidewalk;
Loud, rude snide talk.
Line into Wal-Mart's a mile,
As I'm shopping in mixed mood for Christmas.
Feel like laughing, crying, crashing --
Meds cannot buffer the bile.
Pressure builds in my brain and I hear:

Silver bells.
Silver bells.
I glance at all faces quickly.
If they do hear they don't say.

Duck a catfight;
Grab some dance tights--
Elbow smashes my ear,
At the Clearance Sale table for Christmas.
Got a tie tack,
A backhand slap,
And I fall on my rear.
My mouth gapes wide open as I see:

Silver bells.
Silver bells.
Strange little chrome things surround me.
Hear them ring.
I wanna scream.
In this store I cannot stay.

Off the floor now. 
Need door now.
Shoppers clogging the aisles
Don't give in easily when it's Christmas.
Have to pull hair; 
God, almost there.
Swinging door stops my smile;
I spin 'round, hit the wall and I see:
Fairies all flying around me.
Hear them sing,
And they ring--

Finally I'm home,
Sev'ring the phone--
Fairies still fill the air.
Worse, they sing me songs written for Christmas.
But it's my turf,
So it's not worth
Me tearing my hair.
I pull open a drawer and I seize:

Purple pills.
Purple pills.
I need them most every Christmas.
No more sing;
No more ring.
That's how I like Christmas Day.

Modified December 17, 2002

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