JINGLE WHAT?

a Hannibal poem for Christmas by JetNoir

I stand (and gaze) at

the Behomoth of green in

front of

me…lit as it is

with goldred

A gift from Norway

to the Queen in

her palace of stone

A thousand miles away

my friend sits, her

eyes on the ring – which resides on

her finger: my

Other friend lies

six feet beneath

my feet. Three tears

clinically, fall from my

cheek as I say goodbye.

Goodwill on Earth and

Peace to all Men.

Jingle all the way.

With bells on.


Note: This is a strangely bitter poem, set post novel. I hope you enjoy it, and may I wish you all a very Merry Christmas!

Disclaimer: Hannibal is copyright to Thomas Harris; and the poem to me. This poem has been written on the understanding that you may read it and print it out; but you may not pass it off as your own, hire it out, or sell it for money. You also may not put it on your own or any other web page without my express written permission. Thankyou!

JetNoir