Bad Poetry: Holiday Anxieties

At Poets & Storytellers United, the prompt was to write about holiday anxieties. 

I never had many. Frugal holidays attract few relatives, and the ones who do show up tend to behave well.

Nevertheless:

"Snow," said Merlin

(who had decided he disapproved of America).

The Internet went out.

"Snow harder," said Merlin.

The electricity followed the Internet.

"Oh dear," said I,

"there's no way to warn The Nephews.

 Nor even Lisiwayu,"

as I packed a bag, pulled on boots,

and walked out to her house.

It was lighted by candles and fireplace only.

The Nephews arrived late

and rented a room in Kingsport.

On the way to my house 

they found me walking beside the road.

"Do you have lights at the hotel?" I said.

"Off and on," they said.

"Better than nothing," I said

so we packed up a laptop

and spent the whole holiday week

breathing each other's stale breath

in a two-bed hotel room

with six sleeping bags.

On the way home they said

"We can't risk THAT again!"

and they never came back.

This was not so, it is not so,

and God grant it never will be so.