Mall Santa
the Bayfield Mall
in Barrie, Ontario
in the restroom
I was ten.Santa Claus
stood beside me
at the urinal
pissing into the
bowl.He smelled like liquor
and incinerated
garbage.His eyes were drawn
and bloodshot.When the man washing up at the sink
left
Santa and I were alone.He leaned over me
smiled
reached his hand toward my middle
said he had to see if I’d been
a good boy all year.I told Santa
my father was waiting
just outside.He removed his hand
and left
without washing up.Back in the mall
there was a long line
of children.All waiting to sit on Santa’s lap.
To tell him what they wanted
for Christmas.My father said the wait was too long
so I couldn’t see Santa
that day.I said that was ok.
Santa didn’t need to know
what I wanted for Christmas.And I already knew
what he wanted.
This is one terrific poem!
Thanks Victor, glad you enjoyed the read!