#1
Now with Christmas split between
the never-here and not-present,
I mince life with sickly strings of wit.

There's a frost - ies, kellogs - and
I'm walking slower, all sulching shoulders
and sunk eyes.

[Ice/nice] don't slip on the slapping
tongue, fall face first on dewy sod
and turf. That'll only make things
worse.

The trickle of sharp water running from
washed car to drain/cheeks, and cold,
cold toes up the road if thin socks worn.
A warning most fitting with winter richly
dripping over the tender end of the year.

No stubbon image that shouts at me and
creates empathy. No calloused fingers to
pen experience, just gloves, beanie hat,
presents under the tree.

And that's us back to Christmas, split
between here and not exactly.
Thoughts wonder idly by, drenched
in a thick bread sauce. Main course.
#2
Now with Christmas split between
the never-here and not-present,
second line seems roughly roughly tautological, at least I don't grasp the importance of the distinction
I mince life with sickly strings of wit.
lol, i like the Christmas connotations of sickly mince pies

There's a frost - ies, kellogs - and
actively hated this line. lol
I'm walking slower, all sulching shoulders
Unless sulching is just a word I don't know (and I looked), i like the port-manteau. Also loved the assonance of slower and shoulders
and sunk eyes.

[Ice/nice] don't slip on the slapping
you ken what I think about this line, lol.
tongue, fall face first on dewy sod
dewy sod? How would it be dewy? Especially considering slipping on ice and it clearly being winter
and turf. That'll only make things
worse.
getting a bit obtuse here, maybe. What things?

The trickle of sharp water running from
washed car to drain/cheeks, and cold,
cold toes up the road if thin socks worn.
I can't make sense of this sentence. Perhaps considering rewording it? new punctuation?
A warning most fitting with winter richly
dripping over the tender end of the year.
'tender end', awesome

No stubborn image that shouts at me and
creates empathy. No calloused fingers to
pen experience, just gloves, beanie hat,
presents under the tree.

And that's us back to Christmas, split
between here and not exactly.
Thoughts wonder idly by, drenched
in a thick bread sauce. Main course.

Entirely without rational though, I was really looking for a decisive rhyme in this final stanza

The last paragraph seems to lose flow, which would maybe make sense if I knew where I was with the poem but I don't. I think bits of it could stand to be written less confusingly.

As always, liked reading this out loud.
On vacation from modding = don't pm me with your pish
#3
I quite like the feel of this. The cynicism that, even if you hadn't planned on it, is clear to me and really helps me ignore the lines that I don't like, which meh! has outlined quite well.

The first verse was my favourite part, just because it's more simpler and smacks you in the face very early on and doesn't mess around. Unfortunately, I thought you messed around quite a bit then, which detracted from the impact.

"There's a frost - ies, kellogs - and
I'm walking slower, all sulching shoulders
and sunk eyes.

[Ice/nice] don't slip on the slapping
tongue, fall face first on dewy sod
and turf. That'll only make things
worse.

The trickle of sharp water running from
washed car to drain/cheeks, and cold,
cold toes up the road if thin socks worn.
A warning most fitting with winter richly
dripping over the tender end of the year."

- I don't understand a lot of this and I find it become overwhelmed by lines that slur into one another too much. Too many words and not enough time to chew on things and regurgitate it out into something discernible and emotional.

I enjoyed the ending.

Is sulching a word?