As usual, once I start I can't stop!
Kilmer at Christmas
I think that I shall never see
a poem more irksome than a tree.
A tree you drag home every year
and lug up several flights of stairs;
A tree who's always falling down
And shedding needles all around;
A tree the kitties love to climb,
Whose lights keep shorting all the time;
Whose season comes and goes and then
You have to lug it down again.
And that is why this year, you see,
I bought an artifical tree.