'Tis the Season

'Tis the season, 'tis the season for a rhyme of little reason - so, without a long delay let us go and let us play. Dear Santa, we've been better both in spirit and in letter, something must be in the air here and there and everywhere. First, let's talk about inflation - all across our tired nation we've been watching prices rise with our shut wide open eyes. Politics... don't get me started, it's an armpit that has farted and has cursed itself a jinx - in a word, it simply stinks. Charles the Third is being crowned, and, because the world is round, Cromwells all across the world talk about the days of old. What is going on with Putin - he is now worse than gluten, sugar, alcohol and fat, how has he managed that? Football (also known as soccer) was the wildest game of poker, but at least the final game tried to reignite the flame. And as Covid sits in waiting for encore we are debating masks and shots and all that stuff - have we not been sick enough? Biden, Trump and Musk and twitter - dear Santa, drop the glitter, bring us coal to beat the cold. Warmly (coldly?) signed: the world.