I made love to my 87 year old mother
iced her knee, served her
coffee & a sermon
on corporate fascism
the day after Christmas
the biggest shopping day of the year
I ate turkey leftovers
listened to Bukowski wax
drunk on cd
which is better than fucking-
most poets wagging on eloquently
about art (if you’re like me
getting half drunk on cheap beer)
the day after Christmas
my fingers smelled like fish
because I scratched my moustache
after sticking them in my pussy
cat’s seafood buffet
the day after Christmas
I called in sick
listened to Bob Dylan & Johnny Cash
did two loads of laundry
took out the trash
after all this is Amerika
& we were buried in shit
the day after Christmas
I found moments of silence
when cell phones didn’t ring
when stars of wonder
surely must have wondered
why nobody sings or does anything
about the wanton avarice
we proclaim in Jesus’ name
the day after Christmas
I’m supposed to feel good
cleansed, saved by the joy
of giving, reborn & mesmerized
like those three wise guys
so lost they found God
the day after Christmas
on we trudge bearing gifts
guilt will make us
use at least once or twice
to show those we love
we really do love them
by buying into the corporate credit
plan God created (for man)
the day after Christmas
when he created the Federal Reserve
the IRS, withholding taxes
& the day after that he invented more
crap, who does God love anyway
how much did those three kings have to pay
to seal a deal like that
the deal of eternity nailed down
on Christmas day
if they’d only waited
stayed the night
they could have Jewed him down to half price
the day after Christmas
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