From Nerve Cowboy #23 Spring 2007

 

 

WHITE CHRISTMAS

 

Nick Benca

 

We got to my dad’s one bedroom apartment

after a stop at the convenience store

for eggnog and Cooler Ranch Doritos.

When we got there at eleven,

with our plate full of leftover turkey,

he was snoring on the couch.

Before we opened our presents,

he apologized for not having more.

He said that times were a little tough,

and we all needed to tighten our belts a little.

I reminded him that he wasn’t wearing a belt

with his sweatpants.

He told me to go to hell.

 

After everyone else was asleep,

I dropped the needle

on Bing Crosby’s Christmas record,

crawled into my sleeping bag

with a cup of eggnog

then drifted off, smiling

at the ornament

that said, “Happy Holidays from 7-11.”

And that night, our tree glowed

brighter than the Star of Bethlehem.

 

 

 

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