Been sleeping in my filth for days,
a shower too shaky to assay.
Yet hard to quantify the form
my malady has taken, sleep of course,
but also, lassitude and great remorse.
The central conundrum of my life
has left me leaning on the ginger wine
and the port, I even bought some stilton,
along with mince pies, it’s that time of year,
the one that elves and reindeer fear.
I sure don’t want to be the Christmas Grinch
so, I’ll rise from my disgusting bed
and wash from head to toe instead
in jaundiced preparation for the joys ahead.