Bonaduces Merry Christmas Angela
It's 6 P.M. on Christmas Eve when you're getting home.
Tears frozen into your cheeks. You dry them by the stove.
You drop your jacket to the ground, but your toque stays
on your head. You run upstairs and hide under the
bedspread. I call your name out several times, but you
don't show your face, so I go up to your room and
approach your hiding place. I see the gift your brother
gave. He's a stylist from L.A. He's inflicted his
aesthetic on your family. Your skin white like the
whitest snow when you stand beside the window. I say
'Your screwed up hair looks beautiful to me' Your eyes
shine like Christmas lights. Your voice sails like a box-
kite. There's a smile upon your face; you're getting
happy. So let's add up all our blessings on an abacus.
Merry Christmas, merry Christmas. We'll dance into our
snowpants and into our parkas. Merry Christmas, Angela.
We've been friends since we were girls, and you've always
been there for me. And I'll do the same for you: I'll
offer empathy. Jane's Christmas party is today, but we
could go outside and play. We could show up soaking wet
and hours late. Chorus.
