Christmas Bah Humbug! A poem.

The season of Goodwill must be on us,
For piles of pavement pizza abound,
As drunken office clerks
Lurch dazedly around.
They have been unleashed, released,
From the devilish-dark denizens
Of Messrs Pulpitt and Pugh plc. or A N Other.

So off they stagger;
heading homeward bound,
Depositing their bloated loads
on cold, hard ground
The puke always contains carrots,
though none could be found
On a sparsely spread buffet
Bought that day by Rita from accounts,
From M&S via an office whip round,
Of course the boss dug deeply,
And proudly produced a solitary pound.

Then off they go by tube, bus or train
To suburbia and their home ground;
There to be verbally beaten
by a punctilious partner
With that immortal phrase:
"You're drunk! Have you eaten?"

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I often think.

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