The Christmas Hits Foie Gras
Every December
It is impossible to escape
The hit Christmas songs.
Piped into the shops
The hits will find a way in
To your consciousness.
Liking them or not
Your resistance is futile.
They are everywhere:
Band Aid, Boney M;
Wham and Slade; Bing Crosby and
Cliff Richard; Johnny Mathis
And John Lennon, Mud,
The Pogues with Kirsty MacColl;
Paul McCartney and
Wings, Shakin’ Stevens
Aled Jones, Wizzard and The
Wombles… Chris Rea
Etcetera et…
Cetera… etcetera….
They’re all in the air.
They must be allowed
Into your brain and washed through
As a yearly rite.
And choosing not to
Is ill advised for therein
Lies madness. Be warned:
In mid-November,
Two Thousand and Eleven,
Doug from East Dulwich
Took a firm stand and
When the first songs were played during
An ad-break one night,
He stuck both his hands
Over his ears and refused
To let the hits in.
‘La la!’ he shouted
Loudly, until they went away.
‘La la!’ he declaimed
A week later while
Waiting for a prescription
In Boots the Chemists.
‘La la fuckin’ la!’
He cried going up in a
Lift in Debenhams .
Doug was arrested
Screaming ‘La fuckin’ la la!’
In a Lidl store.
He had knocked down a
Stack of Quality Street tins
In his haste to leave
And was admitted
To St George’s Mental Health
Trust on Christmas Eve
He’d nearly made it…
Aversion therapy was
To follow; he was
Force fed Christmas hits
Until they had no effect
And quickened his pulse
No more. Doug now works
For Poundstretcher – where he can
Be found chanting to
Himself, while stacking
The shelves: ‘Simply having a
Wonderful Christmas
Time.’ He’ll be heard to
Sing… and this would be fine were
It not in July.
Roy Hutchins