Archive
12/13/08
A Christmas Poem
It happens to me, every goddamn year, As Christmas nears, rears its festive head, Reminds me of buying and bingeing feeding frenzies:
I sense my spirit go from equanimous to demoralized, Before sinking into a state of dematerialization That renders my sensibility empty of reason and feeling.
Intellect and compassion take a backseat to misanthropy. I grow agitated, mean-spirited, disdainful, Lose my sense of proportion, decency, propriety,
Say things I'll never regret, to imperfect strangers, Don't ever even make a feeble attempt To spare friends, loved ones, my deepest disgust for them.
Oh, there's no question about it. Around Christmastime, things go from bad to bummed out, And I lose complete control of protocol.
To put it slightly less than mildly, euphemistically, I get egregiously disagreeable, curmudgeonly, Turn into a mix of Abner McNasty and Ebeneezer Scrooge.
And that's just the way it's been, is, will be, Until my Darth Vader Death Star expends its bilious energy, Falls from Paradise, falls out of the sky,
Falls on entropy's Dickensian hard times, With me at the helm, decrying Christmas hypocrisy, Down through the annals of humanity's history.
So be it, pilgrim! So it goes, is, tonight, Not two weeks from the Savior's sacred Nativity, That I begin my ritual climb up my death-wish crucifix.
12/13/08
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