there are christmas lights across the street
my neighbor drapes the strings the first weekday in december,
neon gold cords for inflatable mickey, santa, & snowman
melted simulacra until sunset when the front lawn descends
into a madness of bright blue icicles, rainbow garland
across the garage, pink orbs of love encircle a glittering present,
& the snowman, vibrates by the car as if frozen with a sign that reads
brrr. can snowmans even feel the cold? can they welcome warmth
without losing themselves? or is it fun to pretend all the same?
in sunlight they collapse into husks of themselves in the dirt,
& I marvel at how something so magical was simply
looking at a collection of objects in darkness, lit from inside.
i float into my suburban skeleton
to tell you of the hot Christmas lights of my heart,
the bubble & gold like champagne in your touch.
& you scoff, preheat the oven for dinner.
what a waste of electricity.
JoAnna Brooker is a graduate from the University of Tennessee, where she studied Journalism & English. She is currently the Sundress Academy for the Arts Writer in Residence, & her work has been featured in Figure 1, Jet Fuel Review, Menacing Hedge, & on stage as a comic. She can be found on all social media platforms @cupofjoanna.
