Fathers’s Xmas 1957


Not much better than ’56 –

English goose + trimmings,

apéro-time then

a bottle of BOAC red,

2 Mylanta for dessert


at least

in best company.



My Xmas 2012


Boxing Day and I was a drunk

singing to an empty park

in the age of Riesling,

Campari soda

chilling on the window sill

glorifying cold

austerity and the sweet

Empress who came for dinner.


Then we watched

Beastly in Bethelem or

something like it.

Not French enough

for any Front.


Got back to Paris

just in time

for an in-boxed Kaua’i Beach

Resort brochure.


I sent the runner out for snow,

sent mother a card of Monet’s daughter

une petite fille en fleur

wading through poppies

in a white bonnet

in a searing, sunny August

day in Giverny.