Words compliments of The Sunday Whirl
Jester’s New Year’s Toast
Coming soon, friends and neighbors: a new year.
Hey-a! Amen to the old. So be it. Adios.
Put your bells on, chums. Enter tomorrow with cheer.
Damned, or holy, let yesterday give up its ghost.
Toast it. And laughing. Trash those silent sighs,
say amen to the past. So be it, adios.
And if the new arrival is that nasty surprise
–the pale, toothy monster born just to ingest us–
well, toast it too, and laughing. No martyrly sighs:
we will jingle and chime as it tries to digest us.
We’ll go down, not alone, but a riot. Kicking
the pale monster born to ingest us.
Or, if tomorrow comes like a plain brown stray, licking
wagging, dragging us down, out, into the rainy night
we’ll go down. But not alone, a laughing riot, kicking
our heels, clicking, whistling, singing like the mighty.
Coming soon, friends and neighbors, a New Year
bouncing, dragging us down, out, into the night.
Put your bells on, chums. Hey-a! Enter tomorrow with cheer.