How to Prepare for Christmas

A poem for the start of Advent

How to Prepare for Christmas 

Be first in line. Kneel before Santa 

in the manger with your list, beg for so much 

that you never have to ask again. There will be time 

to pray in January, so order more ham 

than you need, adorn your walls with wreaths, 

fill it with so many gifts that his presence can’t fit. 

Baby-proof your heart for the Savior’s birth.  

Ask the angels, why are you singing? 

Don’t let their hymns interrupt your screen time—

there are movies to watch, cakes to frost, 

Advent readings to skim. Avoid silence, 

stillness, and yourself. Swim in envy when Tim 

brings a better pie to dinner. Blame the cashmere 

purchase on the past year, ignore the emptiness 

when the mailman rings the bell. Buy hats, creams,  

and scarves, believe the world’s advice: you need more.

Write a list of those who wronged you, send the rest 

a five by seven greeting card. Do it all in the name 

of holiday cheer. Avoid the poor, don’t risk eye 

contact or love. Add a log to the fire, spike your milk, 

go to bed swollen and full—the road to Bethlehem

is paved in bourbon, sugar, and smoke. 

When the King is born and Christmas morning 

finds your door, you won’t have to answer 

his knocking—in fact, you won’t even hear it.