December 4

I'm not a celebrant, but the first Christmas card

was found taped to my door just below the peephole,

its contents held in an elegant violet envelope.

a short tab of scotch tape promoted as “invisible”

by the 3M Company, held the envelope fast to the door.

I thought: what will the consequence be if leave the envelope

where it is; ignore it like I would a lioness with my head in her mouth?

time would be the measure of certain distress.

"could be William is bleeding from a fall in the kitchen.

they say all his close relations are dead and his friends,

those still among the living, live far, far away–– like the planets,

and within this measurement of distance, William is Pluto

after its fall from grace, and his son is the sun"!

I should stop daydreaming.

screw it. I’ll take it inside and open it.

–– let's see...there's a dove gliding over a sleepy village.

a soft endearing snow drapes the rooftops.

the chimneys billow a warm, radiant smoke. 

inside, a sweet, commercially printed message

speaks of "Good Will Toward Men", slightly embossed.

signed affectionately: Karen 509.

It was thoughtful, it was sent with the best of intensions,

but I fear an unrelenting cycle of commitments is about to begin.

damn it, Karen 509!

you leave me only one way out.

I gotta move.