The whole club's in a yellow, mellow mood.
Reindeer rattle through rhythms
while Frosty glides on sled strings.
Chestnuts pop in syncopated patterns
while gingerbread men take the stage.
Hot chocolate spirits blur the room
and eggnog ghosts stain the tables.
The Christmas Boogie hops inside
with a jolt of snow and sugar.
The whole place is mistletoe madness
and holly highs
until Ol' Saint Nick
says goodbye.
Jingle Bell Jazz
More by Geri
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Listening to Wind
It is September, yet
I can still hear the beach.
The sea moves and swells;
it tumbles to the shore,
dusts itself off,
-
I think my parents deserve to be happy.
They deserve to laugh and sit on the floor and coo over babies.
They deserve to talk in a language I don’t understand.
They deserve to look at each other with love.
-
Providence
Sweat gathers everywhere as
I climb the golden pavement.
The known ways, the known faces
are waves in the sound.
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