Unrequited Holiday Poet

Do you hear what I hear

rehearsed lines of Christmas past

echoing in my teetering mind

the muse of Christmas present

sharing only slogans and jingles

Do you see what I see

listless flakes of blue snow

shallow strands floating above my head,

while my frost-numbed muse banters

warmed-over threads from her yule log

Do you feel what I feel

the cool winds that aimlessly flow

over the surface of my stale mind

causing my sentient pole to waver

as my callous muse shadows

straddling the diminutive orbs-

banal store recycled without spin

Do you know what I know

interred hearts trumpet in accord

and me, a vassal to the pageantry,

swear a fealty to the vapid chords,

and my now drunken muse

caps her imaginative fount,

perspiring, no longer inspiring