Tuesday, April 5, 2016


Once, I actually tried 
that thing you said—
keeping Christmas all the year.

Turns out—after a
while, you hardly notice the poor thing.
By February,

it gets a bit
restless inside of its
cage—in March,

things get
worse—and you start

to feed it sometimes.
And come April, if it hasn't died
or somehow escaped yet,

you just grow—
so ashamed! and debilitated
by your own combination

of working-
class selfishness
and bourgeois neglect, that

the only humane
and remotely
remedial option left—is to put

the sick little idea
out of its misery
by sending it—right

down the toilet.