Beyond The Sill Of Holly

Okay sweetheart let's think of "them"
for a moment today of all days,
innocent & corrupt celebrating the birth of Jesus,
just think of the deals going down,
tormented & tormenting
ward heelers who imagine the ignoble
pain freezing their faces to be character,
pretty little girls opening bright packages,
their smiles,
middle age arriving on time at the boyish
stockbroker's in the funny form
of his new & almost
unnoticeably slacker muscle tone,
think of a weird star over a desert town
full of snoring jews
& maybe don't think about this now
but there are poor black karma suckers
out there reduced to worshipping hopelessness, -
things happening daily exactly as predicted
in the book of Revelations you know honey,
& think of something for us to say
to purveyors of “Awake!” & “The Watchtower”,
or to a gaggle of Hare Krishna retards about this.
I saw one loose guy, a wino I guess, yelling
at a last days street corner preacher:
“yeah yeah we know; so fucking what?”
That's what I'd say
except for Christmas Day,
thinking of Kid Manger far away
no crib for a bed,
but think of them out there
learning hardly anything is warm enough,
or stone hard or ice blue enough
for the iron circumstances around here,
& think of those getting their hearts broken
this moment for the first, worst time
by the sweetest thing down here, sweetheart,
then think of us.

Christmas Day

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