It would seem absurd on many levels
If they bothered to stop and think about it
This paper won't be cradling these presents
By this time tomorrow
It must seem wasteful
Yet it some ways it is not
For they share the paper
The tape and scissors as well
But this, too, is absurd
For there's no distinction between gifts
No delineation, no demarcation
Well, other than the couch or stairwell
Which serves as the barrier
The magical force field
To be trespassed only to share materials
In the No Man's Land
Over the couch back
Or at the bottom of the stairs
And what of the soundtrack of the absurd?
The narration of Gene Shepard in A Christmas Story
Repeating in the background
Playing out of tradition--both personal and programmatic
But which neither watches
And can only make out pieces
Between rips, tears, cuts, and tapes
*Crinkle, crinkle* "You used up all the glue on purpose!" *Sknnnnnt*
Now it's time to end this wrap session
And move all the presents under the tree
And to pretend not to count out
How many they absurdly got for each other
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