Compared to...

...the squatting turkey waiting for the knife.

The angry holly clashes; the pleading peal,

Of bells swinging Christ back on a horny heel

To clutch his cross like a desired wife.

And now, pinned there, he flutters till they come,

The gross men and the women they are with,

Who kneel and take his soft flesh in their teeth,

And, chewing the holy cud, flock slowly home.

There as the golden children gather by,

Hung with chill bells, the harsh tree is displayed:

A delicate fear wets each child’s eye

While the gross father, with the whiskey flush

Deepening in his cheeks, prepares the blade

To pare off from the bone the warm white flesh

Easter brings relief

Merry Christmas readers!