Paul was Christmas Eve

last year

& the year

before & the

year before

& the year

before

invented in 1822, or rather the idea of Santa Claus defined, by a poem. pajamas for such events, special & new, itchy on the skin the unwashed material new & special

Presents still

In iambic pentameter, a formula still
not fully focused, the potential in waking up
breaking out, special & new, the mirror
to walking, a beating heart, bells ringing

still

wrapped. Cookies & beer setout, untouched. Blankets made into small burritos to wrap around new uncomfortable pajamas. Sounds say everything. A type of campout with Lori in the attic. Cookie crumbs in the blankets. Itch, or new pajama feeling.

Noises in the night they would later attribute to reindeer.

Trying to cut through the paper thin. Formula equal to. Detrimental as it was not editied, though it would be recorded, mimicked on video

last year

& the year

before & the

year before

& the year

before

are charging the blankets, or cookie crumbs, an itch; what TV special is ending right now? They were fighting that night, the kids tucked in. What is a sugarplum? Was there ever snow on Christmas in this town? How could it stay white more than fifteen minutes with all the cars coughing past.

Paul was

Paul was The Christmas Toy. Before the age of computer graphics puppets were king. In this case, Paul was a playful tiger, Jamie’s favorite toy & top Christmas present from last year.

It is Christmastime once again & Paul wishes to rekindle the joy of Christmas morning. He must sneak under the Christmas tree, but when he gets downstairs discovers in what should be his box Meteora, Queen of the Asteroids.

What a strange creature she is — a toy who does not believe she is a toy. Meteora begins to cause mayhem round the tree. There is a singalong of some variety & a Christmaslike resolution of the whole problem.

Nevertheless, a distinguishing feature between The Christmas Toy & say, Toy Story, is the peculiar natural laws of The Christmas Toy Universe — in this land, when a roaming toy is found by a human it freezes forever! No more life for the toy, it is a plastic shell of the smiling life that was once inside. So, for Paul to be found out of his playroom place under the Christmas tree would be suicide.

The happiest moment of his life, his first Christmas reveal, can never again be created.

 

Paul was the muzak piped through the phone system whenever a customer was put on hold. Only once or twice would it ever be heard in a day, as most people hung up with a quick:

“I’m not interested.”

Though, when he got to hit the hold button Paul let the songs linger, for if he had gotten a caller along this far they were buying. & now holiday themed tunes were played to reflect the season, though in saying they were holiday themed Paul never heard a Hanukah or Kwanza song.

Mostly White Christmas.

 

So he changed his script with a swift pencil mark to remind himself for these weeks that while putting someone on hold he could say:

 “Please enjoy this holiday music while I process your request.”                     

Paul was the marketing machine known as XMAS. The word itself the poorest abbreviation for the busiest of times. Commercial splendor, product placement with song & television tie ins & the idea of full display cases, though Wal-Mart is not a main street nostalgia, just a big box holding & exploding all of the above. & this year’s hot toy. & long lines.

 

This is where the true meaning of Christmas would be inserted.

A list with a bicycle on it. Digging though stockings last. Endless loops of Christmas carols, old versions revised with today’s pop stars. & then your favorite song. Driving through town looking at decorated houses, Paul yelling “Christmas lights on my side” to drown out his sister Loraine’s “Christmas lights on my side.”  

 

So this is Christmas.