A Seasonal Poem:

Tis the season of giving of ye great nog of life flowing from the replenishing egg

The solstice long and spirits bright to remember stories of old

Books of knocked-up mothers covering tracks through the desert

Avoiding the patriarchal blame so that the world could collectively attempt love

In a magical vagina celebrated above all others as a sex-less male-producing engine

For time and space to collide in a boy born not of egg or sperm but heaven-dust

Beyond the stars like His atoms comingling grasping deoxyribonucleic acid

From the surrounding camel farts and vented in sand as the magical substitutes for ejaculate

Faith and subjugation of brown star-gazing royalty to bow at his non-web whitish toes twinkling

Like holy caroms of who owns the land now in the watchful eye of the cow’s anus

Milking mother’s tit with Joe Pa feeding Ma the afterbirth in a stew for a one-day flight

Through the ionosphere like his adopted progeny rocket man

Oh times of joy and herald’s hip hop across the manger’s quake

The sterilized family blade that slit the foreskin slurped by a sheep

Giving the ovine lighting-shot eyeballs and gilded wool of a kingdom made

Celebrating innocence in angelic document of myrrh over dung

For we will always remember the magical lighting sheep of the season

How great thou art bleating us into sustenance, never was there thunder from your thighs

That would fail to inseminate a ewe, lambs burst like turtles from the clutch

Spewing up from sand and finding the sea as if by your will alone

The brood is launched to play in the shark’s reef as the mad red hatter blesses them

Once a year on this night with flippers stuffed with chiseled toys of elven glory

Dreaming of the burglar hatter descending from the sky to pierce the ocean’s surface

The great giving of objects

So it is we wish happy holidays in every available instance,

To vaccinate for the loss of fear into the taboo of noncompliance

Like asking how is it going; how are you at the entry to every phone call or pizza delivery,

As link to ages of two bodies meeting in the wilderness

Will this other attack or not; take what I have or lay neutral, assess the threat

So in we are compelled to utter nonsense to demonstrate agreement to the social norm

I will not gut you for your milkshake; I will not use your purse as a piss pot

I will comply to dance the agreed upon collective to be not a wolf in a land of dogs

As it were folklore is progress failing to progress

So it is at which revolution around the sun do we abandon Odysseus at sea?

When does heaven’s ceiling uncork the bottle of human potential

To realize the difference between mythology and spirituality

That one is not dependent upon the other, while one is

So when one says happy holidays which do you refer? 

As if it is mandated that one believe in one nation or another

Partake the fruitcake for sugar-rushing comfort that the wolf no longer exists

Eyeing the nut-cracked boys and virgin teenagers lavishing the globe with a sexless bundle

Roll lightning roll

On GDP, on Pfizer, on Nixon,

On Nascar, on Sodomy, on Wal mart, on Christians

To the pasture of assertion to the meme that come one, coerce all to build the same team

In a society of faith dwindling double assertion and call it war in the pews

Younglings thinking out and displaying the signs

That this mythology ends with my generation as its time of dying

The insult to the mind is repugnance of volition

At the root one would not choose kindness if not for the decision

Of a sexless child to grow young and happily die, domineered by a book

That never mentions the lighting blasting sheep or the foreskin of power

Lying on the face to rush in followers to egg away chaos at the seams

Interconnection, empathy, love waiting down there by the train

Get on or off the tracks with Springsteen’s whores and gamblers

Tom Waits piano slow with Judas Iscariot carrying John Wilks Booth

Dylan’s Harmonica changing religions with the tune

Systematic structures which mitigate exploitation and instill mutual assurances

To deter the corruptions of human fragilities and selfishness are functions of seeing the divinity in individuals we may never actually meet, not myths or arbitrary calendar marks

happy Thursday