A HOLY-DAY POEM

beginning the holiday season always seems to suck
i'm me--and as always--i'm short a buck

thanksgiving day come first
and i, like many, expand my girth

here's where the poem stops rhyming
it all--seriously--comes back to timing

***

thanksgiving day is a day in which we give thanks
i give thanks for my family
and for the fact that i'm not in iraq or affie

thanksgiving day is a day in which we give thanks
i give thanks for a wonderful family and a cool dog
and i thank god that i'm not in the middle east

thanksgiving is a day...
no shit...
i give thanks for my relative health and
for my relative's health

sometimes a Day of Remembrance is all it takes
to get me teary-eyed

let's go back to the Beginning of this Day

i screamed silently fourdayweekend and
i got my ass out of bed
at 12:00
and began to clean my sloppy apartment, vacuuming and wiping flakes
from the range-top to
to the floor

i swept and i washed clothes and i jammed dishes into the 'washer

Time stalled
i was done
the place looked
mildly better

i took lou for a walk, no
i didn't, lou has scanned my countenance
all-the-live-long-day
sorry charlie--Lou

my apartment sparkles except for
the monkey-droppings that i have piled beside the
kitchen table.

I'll get to them. Eventually.

smile-grin-hitch-weep

thanksgiving day...time to eat Big Bird and gorge on his stuffings

thanksgiving day...a time to reflect upon the origin of this great country...

does Murder make a good meal-time discussion?
does Plunder make you think, at all?
Thanks be to God--sure--but,
why are we, the bold flying flag, always the aggressors?
espescially when we--our antecedents--came o'er here from a Brutal Land?

i'm not one to speak up and ripple the
wave-pool, but, i feel that this holiday is as
stark
as Columbus Day.

for what are we thankful?
are we americans thankful for our military might?
are we thankful for our own precious cocoon in which we traverse?
are we thankful that We have the Bombs and others are scrambling to catch up?
--which they will, assuredly, if they've not already--

back it up, please.
let's back it up, please.
let's go back to the Time of bows and arrows and misfiring muskets...

Please.

Back it up, God Damn It!

a musketball ain't a thermonuclear device that can be hidden with a briefcase
a musketball ain't a dude or a woman believing that the Jihad is the way to heaven
a musketball ain't zealots taking flying lessons to learn to cause Deathmultiplied
a musketball ain't genocide nor is it
warring nations in africa, splitting heads with blunt clubs and slicing
with machetes

a musketball was a spherical object that was used from the 16th- to the 18th-century
it was fired from a "smoothbore shoulder gun" and, i expect
it was a painstakingly slow weapon to re-equip--good
good.

Good.

i am thankful that i live in this great country, warts and all, but
i am not thankful that Humanity has upped the ante, so
to speak
we live in a Dangerous world

and i fail to see how a chimpanzee can lead us out of danger and into a
Democratic World
i have no faith in the simian

i have no faith in the simian; i have no faith in the simian--i have no faith
in the simian

for what am i thankful?
my fingers
my brain
my God
my family
my job "security"

for what am i thankful?
the smells
the sensations
the Freedom
the love
the lust

for what am i thankful?
my boy Lou
my smooth-track to work
my income
my benefits
myMymy

My, my--my....

Thanksgiving should not be of Oneself.
Instead, it should be of Another.
Money in a troubled soul's pocket.
A free meal for an indigent.

This is the Country of Wealth, right?

Then let's do something about it.
Give a bum a twenty...
If he/she uses it for alcohol or drugs,
So fucking what?
We--with computers--are the Haves

Let us help the Have-Nots.

And, THEN, we can give thanks.

[twocentsdeposited]