CASUALTY
- Dark Poets Club
- Jun 21
- 1 min read
By Damen O'Brien

On the busiest day of the
year, even harder than the
shifts of stomach pumping,
of broken legs, gravel-rash
Christmas present injuries,
of brother-battered-brother
like old bible stories, even
the quiet crowd of women
with prints on their necks,
or the nearly successful
brought in under watch
or the successful, brought
in under sheets, was finding
the waiting-room Santa,
rotund, beery, long after the
presents have been opened,
sobbing into his false beard.