29 Christmas Down at the Mission Tonight sun and moon and earth line up and drag The sea far back, the still tidepools, like light Solidified, mirror that great headlight, The low sun, beaming on … but here’s the snag: Been reading in the latest lit’ry rag From Britain, and in this one doing right (As with the Pauper Witch) is their delight In tight-lipped “leaders.” Made my spirits flag. I know it’s for your own good when they say “Sit down, my friend, this chilling Christmas day, Though the bench is hard, the table bare of trimmings, Hold out your bowl and heed our bracing hymnings!” Meat gray and stringy, gravy gray and thin, Served up by the clammy enemies of literary sin. 59