Choir Boys (a surreal Christmas fantasy)
“and the unclean spirits came out and went into the pigs, and the herd of about two thousand rushed down the steep bank into the sea and drowned in the water.” Mark 5:13
Brothers, it is indeed a strange tale I repeat.
They were all well coached and in nothing forced,
our little boys garbed in white with voices sweet.
No cause for grave alarm when they began the chorus
of carols but the smiles were strained, I admit,
and from “We Three Men” had all become scowls.
At “Oh Little Town of Bethlehem”, there was an evil fit
of coughing and as ruddy cheeks turned into jowls,
the singing fell to sulphurous belching for a start.
Added insult, someone threw a hymnal that careened
upon the bald pate of the bishop who took it to heart.
The orchestra then broke into cacophonies obscene,
most reverend sirs, and pandemonium generally ensued
as grunting pigs, yapping dogs, crazed crocodiles
discarding gowns in the confusion and going nude
ran helter-skelter down the grand cathedral aisles.
I tried to stop them but they stampeded over me
and tumbled pell-mell over a steep incline into the sea.