Chicagoetry | Christmas Ghost Story: The Peppermint Kid

CHRISTMAS GHOST STORY: THE PEPPERMINT KID

Christmas Past

I'll never forget it:
They interrupted "The Peppermint Kid,"
One of my favorite serials,

With a bulletin
Of capital murder, a
National tragedy

Close to home.
Every holiday since
Is haunted thus.

I loved "The Peppermint Kid!"
Think "The Shadow" meets "The Scarlet
Pimpernel"

"I found a jar of peppermints I hid."
"I found a jar of peppermints I once hid and thought lost!"

Well, just as the Kid
Was getting hip about
His latest caper,

They broke in.
The picture was grim.
And very soon,

They had footage.
Someone had filmed it.
No audio, just

The victim taking the shots.

The footage, said
To be hideous,
Was held back.

Christmas Present

"The video is said to be hideous."

The video
Is said
To be hideous.

Hideous.
Video.

The video is said to be hideous.
No audio, just
The victim taking the shots.

It was a direct attack on my self-righteousness.
I was just about to feel better about myself.

Sense working overtime.

On the precipice of revelation, stunned into gibberish.

This is not a poem anymore.

My mind is talking to you now.

Christmas Future

The future, Mr. Gitts, the future!

We ask your attention to stand by on this bulletin
We ask your attention to stand by on this bulletin

"Nobody's fault but mine!"

"A Grindhouse Staple."

Groundhog Day

"You must change your life."

Stand by on this bulletin from Dallas, Texas

"There were negroes around, but the gunman was white."

Understandably in a situation like this the information comes in fragments and comes from unexpected places and uncontrolled angles

Sen. Yarborough said "the sight was too gruesome to describe."

It is not known whether either was killed
It is not known whether either was killed

We will keep our listeners informed in both languages as news develops

This is not an official statement
The President is dead

Ladies and gentlemen the President of the United States is dead of an assassin's bullet in Dallas TX

It has been confirmed that the President is dead

Because they thought there might be
Because they thought there might be

Some kind of protest
Some kind of protest

"FUCK YOU, that's who I am!"

"The Future, Mr. Gitts, the Future!"

His breath smelled of bourbon and peppermints.

I was frightened.

Everywhere I hear the sound of marching, charging feet, boy

I am fragmented

Don't ask me what I think of you I might not give the answer that you want me to

Come on people now, smile on your brother

"You must change your life."

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J.J. Tindall is the Beachwood's poet-in-residence. He welcomes your comments. Chicagoetry is an exclusive Beachwood collection-in-progress.

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