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Apathy On The 24th.

Updated on January 1, 2010

it goes so fast,
just a scheduled orgasm,
bringing intense joy
followed by the void
of all that lies ahead.

I watch like some
twisted voyeur as 
malls ejaculate the last
sluggish strings of
holiday shoppers,
dragging their bags home.

Leaving lonely

staring out through
the whiteness,
clothed in
unsought attire.

I drive in
the wee hours
on Christmas eve,
nothing stirs
but twinkling lights,
my world is a vast
frozen desert

Santa sent
rain checks

this year,
to so many,

the economy
is a stock-("ING")

idiots graft
emptied by greed.

The war

lurches on,
boys and girls

clutching guns
instead of

sugar plums.

The new

year looms
with many

strings attached,
waiting for

our knitted brows.

We are all ornaments
on our family trees,
one by one we
are taken down,
and boxed after such
a short time of shining.

So many gone,

my grandma's
and grandpa's

just memories,
my mom too,

what a bright
star she was.

There will be
many Christmas

times to come,
quick bursts of relief,
and then the ache
of their passing.

Cherish the memory,
it is a bit of tinsel
on the dullness

of one's soul.





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