CHRISTMAS CARD PRETTY MUCH MADE POPULAR  BY CONSTANTINE

We have the most spears so we'll deck the halls with boughs

of holly tonight, praying for epiphany beneath a freezing pine

Indiana morning, oatmeal coagulating pastel plastic bowls, hoping

for a genie of sorts, an alien on a dare, anyone or anything, any

boiling light to stretch its flickering jellyfish tentacles around our

Costco, 4 ½ foot, LED multi-colored artificial Norwegian spruce,

then Merry Christmas to all & to all one helluva good night!

MICKEY THE MANTLE

Michael, my cousin—

or Mickey the Mantle,

that is the question?

(Considering Uncle Jack’s warning one day before,

solemn and to the point.)

But my cousin, whose reality exceeded Babe Ruth’s myth

when cousin, Mickey, predicting his historic homerun

with a boyish Indiana grin and a low-slung bat

punished a baseball that shattered the tiny window

on Uncle Jack’s hand-built, unoccupied rental nestled

high above the cornfield.

Serendipitous to this historic event,

I bore witness and, therefore, stand as official notary

to this singular athletic feat

by my cousin, Michael J. Allen,

or Mickey the inimitable Mantle,

no longer a question.

But, as I recall, sporting a hammer, some bent nails,

a stubby whiskbroom and one badly warped dustpan,

we nailed plywood and swept shards of humility

well into the dimly-lit evening.

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© Copyright, 2015, Alan Britt.
All Rights Reserved.