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I was gutted just before Christmas,
And my fir stripped of stars and balloons;
My cavity, thin as an isthmus,
Was stuffed with old chestnuts and prunes.
They turned up the heat. I tasted
Self-basted.
My wings were clipped. So was my wattle.
And Santa's sleigh lost my address:
It passed - like my neck - at full throttle.
My wishbone was fractured by stress.
I waited by crib and by manger,
A stranger.
My pantomine dame was ungirdled,
And left me offstage as her stooge.
Rue Mortgage. My gravy was curdled.
My partners were Marley and Scrooge.
No lemon, no zest. I was rind,
Resigned.
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