hel·low (ˈhelō/) exclamation. A salutation embodying the vibrant energy found in the color yellow.

10 June 2012

Mary, I Hate Christmas

A glass ornament hanging from the Christmas tree
Twinkling under colored lights for you to see
Boxing day comes and the lights
Go dark
The cord yanked from the socket
The needles on the tree skirt
Beaten off before it’s stuffed in a box
For next year with all the ornaments
Being taken off
The dying tree shakes
The wire hook bends
Your little red bulb slips off the spindly arm
Shatters red glass on the floor
Like shiny confetti
From a steel piñata
Fuck. You say
And go get the vacuum
You suck up my love
My dried needles filled that void
Ever since you dragged me in

Standing between my two brothers
In early December
Young snow clinging to our boughs in the brisk dawn
You smile
The wind makes me wave back
You clap your hands together
I return a smile
In the only way a tree can smile
You tell them I’m the one
Soon they’re sawing off my roots
I said goodbye to my brothers
Got taken to your home
Dragged up the stairs and propped up
In a stand, screws in my trunk
Fed water to keep me full and green
While you dress me up in lights
Adorn me with glass bulbs
And mount a star on my head
From the shiny paper on the gifts beneath me
Tagged to Mary
I learn your name
Assume that’s who you are
And bring you happiness
In return
You bring me to my brothers
Them standing straight and tall around my stump
I lying with browning needles
In a heap of snapped branches and ice
For a week before
Your dad comes out with a saw
To make logs out of me
So I can keep you warm at night.

Your tree burns on the Epiphany
And the shattered ornament is sucked up
By your vacuum
In pieces

As a tree, Mary,
I hate Christmas.

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