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Santa please stop here

Santa please stop here
I have been good throughout the year
Never drunk any alcohol
Or done anything I shouldn’t
Santa please stop here
I am a big kid wanting beer
Or a wine, not just the Prosecco kind
But a whinging ninja
More like a forgetful wife and mother
Part time lover.
But Santa Claus you get it
High on rum and mince pies
I see why you are flying in the sky
With reindeer, one with a red nose
How I am always catching colds
and hubby looks like Rudolph.
His red nose blowing out like a trumpet
and that’s just the forward end
I want to make a commitment for a better new year.
But I know my resolutions will turn to amusement to those who know, me who may think
I should have left the wine and chocolates on the shelf though
Realise what it’s like to have a sweet tooth
Perhaps adults should have the naughty elves
And give their children free access to their Ikea shelves
Or leave them to roam there for a joke, to see who’s the quickest to get out
The odds are your kid may know their way better than you and end up taking you to
Jeffery’s delights at Toys r Us
While ur hubby’s missed the bus
And turned into Horrid Henry
While your child like a trademark Harry Potter good, seeks out the fun part of the cafe
That is the bit with toys
Mum ends up paralytic on the bar floor
Too much Carte d’Or and Golden Blend,to make up for the rose headache the day after the night before
Then Christmas Day
The Santa sign stuck in front of the door wavers and staggers up the ladder in the loft
Where lies hidden uncle’s present of Hugo Boss
Mind you, while dad looks for a moment aghast
The spirit of Christmas past walks through the gate
An ex partner awaits
She’s shimmering, waiting for Hogmanay
But it’s Christmas Day
And you know what?
The day Santa stopped here
He’d had his rum and mince pies
A child smiles,
Santa’s left the milk.
While families, smouldering with traditional love by the log fire on a silent night
Then EastEnders fireworks
Santa’s changed to an old grandfather with his pipe and slippers, sucking cream off his whiskers
While a child hurls a custard pie
Santa please stop here
You may not have the rear of the year
But many of the Santa helpers
Have forgotten what it’s like
To live with their kids and wives
Instead they belch and burp
While the women smile and host
the parties, hear the post blow over.
Santa’s stopped his runs
Though he is having one
Too many pies and ale
The Brussels sprouts, turkey wife, her face as pale
As a pigeon poops all over the windscreen of his exes car
Turkey wife sings Paramour
While son watches Balamory
A south eastern Christmas story
Baby Jesus is the Little Britain joke
And X Factor beats the pope with Honey G rapping her gospel’s melody
The street is no longer an urban ghetto
Yet holds a middle class liberal agenda
While the right wing go on benders
Donald Tump and Nigel Farage defenders
Disappear into a blender of dystopic vice
Merry Christmas and stuff that last year
Santa please stop here

About Geraldine Ward

Geraldine Ward has been writing and performing various forms of poetry and prose from an early age, and is a regular contributor at the London Farrago Poetry Slam nights. She has published a number of books including the "Now" collection, and has featured in other publications including Katie Metcalfe's "Beautiful Scruffiness" series of magazines.

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