Posts Tagged ‘Christmas’

We were both sitting there
facing each other. I hadn’t seen
him in what must have been years
but it almost seemed longer. Like centuries,
like a millennium. He was telling me
about the best Christmas he ever had.
He had just started needing to shave,
And he was proud of it. he really was.
He said he had this dream. it was vivid.
One of those dreams where you can’t tell if it’s
real or not. It was like that.
he dreamed he was alone in his house,
His mother and father had gone to town and he
Just knew he smelled gingerbread
And when he got to the kitchen there they were,
Two gingerbread men, but one was a man
And the other looked like a woman,
but the one that looked like a woman
she had breasts, I mean they were big,
And frosted and he thought
That gingerbread cookie was too good to be true
And when he looked up he saw Jane Russell,
Just standing there in his kitchen all dolled up
And lookin right at him and she said she made
Them cookies for her favorite outlaw and she blew
Him a kiss and he said Christmastime never was
The same after the that, it never was the same
Because he knew it would never be much better
Than that, and Santa couldn’t bring him what he wanted.

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home by christmas by DB COX

hey you—
writer of shadow work
& simple rhymes
living in a shabby motel
on a blue highway
chain smoking
stroking stitch marks
in old wrist scars—
has solitaire
turned your character
to stone
are your sanity markers
like vandalized headstones
in an abandoned cemetery
are you down
to scribbling
on restroom walls
no longer
a part of the picture
do you count
ceiling cracks
while you track
the number of times
you lied
about sliding back

maybe your parts
are just in backward
light—where dark should be
dark—where light should be
we have everything
you could ever want
right here
you can cry here
or die here
after all has been
said & unsaid
done & undone
forgiven & unforgiven
we can help you
your personal landscape
have you
in a custom picked place
before the sun goes down
detoxed & flown
back home
by christmas
just sign here —
on the dotted line
for your one hour
sunday night
prime-time intervention

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