A cold drizzle chilled frozen citizens and kept man eating bugs under subway platforms
It washed blood and human meat down the sewers littered with discarded ornaments
There was no remedy for the cavernous potholes that swallowed buses
or crystal meth sharks that chewed up and spit out junkies
I stumbled into a liquor store subsidized by an intrusively sentient State
I needed to put some cheap booze on my temperamental credit card
the purchase went through signaling a new Christmas Miracle
like the Little Drummer Boy pounding out Rush songs for Baby Jesus
A sidewalk Santa spoke to me as I shuffled past him like a tragic memory
Words of scorn that came with the odor of roasted chestnuts and liver disease
My dirty room in a motel with crusty sheets had been pillaged by Visigoths
or a lonely tech drone with a dark history and moonshine dreams
A hooker down the hall overdosed on pills and a .38 slug to the brain
The only ones seeing her goodies were the cops who scraped her off the walls
I drank and drifted into dark corners of the crumbling mansion of my mind
A Christmas Parade played on the clunky television I was using as a bar
It was sponsored by the Satanists at The Cape Horn Furnace Company
The sound of footsteps on the roof stirred me from my sleep
like I was in a boiling cauldron being prepped for a witch’s dinner
In the hellish light from the television my history caught up to me
A tall shadow stood in the doorway and smiled like a murderous child
The Black Magic Necromancer
My personal Ghost of Christmas Past
ANGER AT THE END OF THE WORLD 
Powerful stuff, and a good read!
Thanks for following my blog, which is appreciated.
Best wishes, Pete.
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