Dear fat man

with the gift-filled sack,

please come

and take these toys back.

please come with haste

and don’t delay

and take these curs’d

things away.

I wrote to you

at 3am.

I’d stubbed my toe

and dropped my pen.

I sent my letter

straight to Santa,

but addressed it to

‘My good friend Satan’

the army men,

they war all night

I cannot sleep for all

their cries.

The rocking horse,

 my hand, it bit

and in my room

 it often 

…. sits.

The dinosaurs

control the floor

and hunt the teddies

  more and more 

The bike you got

I loved the most

is haunted by

a Viking ghost

So, Satan, Santa,

what’s-yer-name,

come get these things

 —— I’ve gone insane.