The Twelve Days of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

a 104-inch plasma screen tv.

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

two VR headsets, and a 104-inch plasma screen tv.

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

three different iPads, two VR headsets, and a 104-in plasma screen tv.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

four iWatches, three different iPads, two VR headsets, and 104-inch plasma screen tv.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

making us facebook official, four iWatches, three different iPads, two VR headsets, and a 104-inch plasma screen tv.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

six electric scooters, making us facebook official, four iWatches, three different iPads, two VR headsets, and a 104-inch plasma screen tv.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

seven G wifi, six electric scooters, making us facebook official, four iWatches, three different iPads, two VR headsets, and a 104-inch plasma screen tv.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

eight bluetooth earbuds, seven G wifi, six electric scooters, making us facebook official, four iWatches, three different iPads, two VR headsets, and a 104-inch plasma screen tv.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

nine Instagram likes, eight bluetooth earbuds, seven G wifi, six electric scooters, making us facebook official, four iWatches, three different iPads, two VR headsets, and a 104-inch plasma screen tv.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

ten speaker surround sound, nine Instagram likes, eight bluetooth earbuds, seven G wifi, six electric scooters, making us facebook official, four iWatches, three different iPads, two VR headsets, and a 104-inch plasma screen tv.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

eleven percent introductory credit card interest, ten speaker surround sound, nine Instagram likes, eight bluetooth earbuds, seven G wifi, six electric scooters, making us facebook official, four iWatches, three different iPads, two VR headsets, and a 104-inch plasma screen tv.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me

twelve times the Prozac, eleven percent introductory credit card interest, ten speaker surround sound, nine Instagram likes, eight bluetooth earbuds, seven G wifi, six electric scooters, making us facebook official, four iWatches, three different iPads, two VR headsets, and a whole bunch of other shit no one needs.

 

 

 

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A Worthwhile Trade on a Wintry Morning

I’ll bet no one ever gets

a cold in the tropics: there’s

never a damned chill in the

air or the inability to thaw,

regardless of how many blankets

or cups of coffee are used to

counteract the situation.

Indeed, of all the time

I’ve ever spent down on

that beautiful island down

south, I’ve only ever caught

a mild case of the clap.

 

Decomposition

Pity to those who travel here

seeking witty banter, jocular

prose or even perhaps that

momentary respite inside this

old, hectic mind: a thought about

the current state of fascism all

wrapped up in beautiful consumer

goods and single-use plastic.

A throwback to the good old

times, which might have never

really existed, except in this

dusty memory. Clouded with

regrets and gin, swaying drunkenly

in a second line. Closed eyes,

a smile, clutching this bourbon

and crumbling from the

outside.

 

Sorry to those who made this

journey, only to find the old

girl dead. Still at attention, she’s

decaying in the air, choked

by the fires, and blowing

away with the warming

Santa Ana winds.

Eyes Wide Shut

In the quest to blame and

vilify another for life’s

hardships and disappointments,

never must one discount

the real possibility that

they, themself, are to

blame because they are

likely an asshole or a

narcissist. But it’s easier

to look in the mirror

and see the beauty we’ve purchased

instead of the data,

the likelihood of which,

we are the common denominator

in our own misery.

Pussy-footing

A poem for my family at Thanksgiving: 

It’s the great white way

to traipse verbally around a

subject, avoiding any meaning

or complimenting freely

from the back of the hand

or the bottom of a martini.

 

And when one learns

the shortest distance from

a to be is a direct route,

a zipline of my words,

like a child who can walk,

it becomes a habit to speak

thus, in all situations.

 

But the delicate sensibilities

of the elite passive

aggressive and somewhat

intellectually dim, get

offended so easily by

crystal clear communication

and thoughtfulness

which has been fully formed.

 

It isn’t any wonder Thoreau ran

screaming to live alone in the woods.

I’m still searching for the place

where words can be understood

as a means of communication,

not offense, for people

who feign frustration but simply

are too obtuse

to actually comprehend their meaning,

much less their responsibility.

 

game over

Terrified all these years

to finally let go

and as soon as the wounds

healed from the coiled,

barbed grip on us,

It became apparent

that instead of falling

into my own darkness,

turning away from us

meant finally

soaring

to the light.

 

Get Thee To A Nunnery in Yosemite

The photographer’s narrative

stirs the soul,

and there is a deep connection

with the artist, and

the landscape: strewn with trees,

smooth boulders,

and the kinds of clouds which

look painted by an

immortal custodian, who also

wants the viewer to understand

why so many have boldly gone

and lost themselves in the forests.

Trees can’t say anything

stupid. A stream has never

uttered an ignorant comment.

Bugs are always trying to better

themselves. Not even once has a

leaf been passive aggressive.

The mountains are calling,

and they certainly must

have something more worthwhile

to say than hungover coworkers

or the lobotomized newscasters

on the network station.