::12:21:07::

::: Dead Yaks Sing No Carols :::

She said “it does not seem like summer, to me.”
I said, “Perhaps that is because it is the second week of December.”
She hated it when I patronized her.
I hated it when she flashed her tits each time the cable guy came around.

We laughed at our foibles,
and wished that we were in Portugal.

She said “take a drink of this!" it will take you to the promised land.”
I took a drink, then spit it out, saying “this tastes like the urine of a yak!”
She laughed, and said “I’m sorry, I gave you the wrong thing,”
I took a very small sip from the next drink that she gave me, just to be sure.

We laughed at my apprehension,
and got lost on the way to the Promised Land.

She said, “I don’t feel comfortable tonight, for some reason.”
I said “you have cashews in your underpants, again.”
She removed them, and thanked me for caring enough to notice.
I searched for the Perry Como Christmas CD, and wondered where she kept the yak.

We laughed at her eccentricity,
and danced an imaginary Christmas waltz.

She said, “Did you buy my Christmas gift yet?”
I lied, for no good reason, and said “yes.”
She said, “Did you spend a lot of money on it?”
I lied again, and said “yes,” thinking that it might lead to sex, later on.

We laughed at her naiveté
and marveled at our lust.

She said, “You did a great job with the tree, this year.”
I said “I took it from the lobby of the Wells Fargo bank.”
She said “did they say anything when you left with it?”
I said “they might have, but I had chewing gum in my ears.”

We laughed at my resourcefulness,
And she hopped on one leg until her bunion began to throb.

She said, “Does Christmas ever make you sad?”
I lied, for no good reason, and said “no.”
She said, “I sometimes find myself weeping, and I don’t know why.”
I knew why, but felt that it was best not to tell her.

We laughed the laugh that lovers laugh,
and waited for the carolers to sing their festive songs

Written by: ~ Carmen Diode