He Came Through the Window

What if the man dressed as Santa followed you home?

One a.m. Sunday (rats stir beady eyed rag dolls - Cupids)

Scuttling on banners

Scurrying up Santa Clause Lane

Prancing about in affluent decadence . . .

Greasy brush hairs trailing their pitter-patter-tip-taps

And

Grandfather’s orb ding-dongs and tick-tocks

As they slumber on nebula pillows (sterile white) -

Their confessions a lifted burden to piety

(For St. Nick won five Washingtons from manicured nails)

But

They left the brass latch with diamond studs ajar

 

 

(Ol’ St. Nick)

He came through the window

 

 

Boogie monster – Grinch - lurks not beneath Ariel beds

(Behind walk-in closet spaces or groaning pipelines)

But he tip-toes in smoky boots and ruby cloth

(A costume fit for recognition . . . just one more contribution)

And he must sniff the safe – the combination pinwheels from labyrinths

Of white-washed crucifixes choked in duplicity

While

The swift feet scatter beneath his stairwell march

(Save for those whose bones crushed beneath the madness’s step)

Glinting iron lights the walls in merry candy cane dreams

(whilst snuffed snores entrance his steps to the grand oak knob)

 

 

(Ol’ St. Nick)

He came through the door

 

 

Sugar plum blasts rumble the Eve’s night scroll

And

(The holiday shots scream “silent night” in its grim reaper carol)

With frost bitten cheekbones sunk deep to the skull –

He chuckles in rosy cheer as the pillows die scarlet (such a lovely hue)

To a madman clothed in mythical attire (metal within his bag).

Without a ho-ho-ho the pinwheel dizzies its numbers just right

(aroundarouaroundaround)

He swoons on eggnog liquor and pine needle fumes - cackling he-he-he(s)

As his bloody sack fills with denied Washingtons – Franklins – Jeffersons - and -

With a mouthed “Merry Christmas dear benefactors” . . .

He scurries past the stone wall chimney with care

 

 

(And Ol’ St. Nick)

He leaves through the window