3 January Poem by Morgan Michaels

Xrist Almighty, Gee!
both resolutions felled
at a per diem rate of 1.3-

even before the pine,
littered with tinsel bits,
is pitched into the gutter;

and well before those three kings
come bearing gold
to barter on the mulch-man's behalf;

'Yo lo siento'- yet
vows so swiftly broken
can't've been meant to be kept;

My soul's a red sail.
that unfurls like a tulip, each night
and tightens each day to a pip;

It rollicks on.
It'll dye the sea crimson
before submitting to be stone-washed white.