For Lisa, Christmas Eve

Hush! Hush!

Whisper who dares.

It’s Christmas Eve

In Queen Mary’s dollhouse.

Grandma wants 

The children to sleep.

To this end

She has pulled down the book

That nice Mr. Milne

Gave us last year,

But the children are having

None of it.

Their eyes are scrunched, 

But their legs are kicking

Beneath the blankets.

Because tomorrow Daddy will be home

All day,

And there’ll be food

And cake

And cake is a food,

But different,

Because when you’re full

You can’t eat more food,

But you can eat more cake

And nobody cares

That Christopher Robin

Is saying his prayers.

Grandma tries again

With a story of a little girl

On the other side of the world,

Where the sun is already up

And the girl

And her brother 

Are shooting each other

With brand new

Water pistols.

And she accidentally shoots her Daddy

To laugh at him dying

Like a B movie cowboy

On the floor

In front of the tree.

The children are snoring

Because Grandma’s stories

Are so very boring.

As she glides silently from the room

Grandma dares whisper,

“Do you like eggs children? Well suck those eggs.”

The children sleep the sleep of the innocent.

Hush! Hush!

Whisper who dares.

What’s that you say?

You’ve seen Queen Mary’s dollhouse 

And you didn’t see any children

In it?

Lisa did.

Parkstreet