Boxing Day 1
The day you find out,
How nagging a full tummy is,
Filled with all sorts of Christmas goodies,
Meats, puddings and Christmas cake.
And your only solace, is your boxer shorts.
How freeing it can be,
To unbuckle the leather belt
And live larger than you normally would,
In a pair of festive shorts,
Looking at a cricket match unfold
At the MCG, and gazing at
Those lithe and wiry frames on screen,
And wondering in awe,
“what did they have for Christmas?”
Boxing Day 2
Santa’s big day is now over
And the day that belongs to cheapskates
Comes next, when everything
Is sold at a bargain price, when bags
Are packed to the brim, and arms are balancing
Those bulging shopping bags
That look as obese as the people
Carrying them. Christmas is
That day, of giving presents to
Your loved ones, who matter to you.
And the day after, is your race against time,
Of how to make little dashes
At Macy’s or Bloomindales, burning off
Those hundreds of calories
Amassed at the Christmas table.