Image: “Footprint” by Conal Gallagher. Source – CC License
Author: Guy Da Costa
Christmas Spirit
I am not a poet and never will be.
I lack rhythm. My rhymes are poor and so is my poetry.
Scroll back up or down to the last or next prodigy.
Although you shouldn’t, you keep watching into me.
Outside I wrote my cleverest mandalas in pee
Spring blew them away. We could not agree.
Tracks and remains are deeper in the snow
And better kissers under the mistletoe.
It is Christmas and I have to let you know
That with all this fondue you should pray to a crow.
Your car has drowned and they’d help your child grow
In a world of funny fumes and they will never have to row.
As you join your hands thinking about Crow-Jesus
You ask yourself why Santa and his circus
Offer life while they’re as sterile as a cactus.
Black feathers snuggle to Mount Olympus
The crystals who now sleep in a hot bubbly mattress.
You alone and happy saved the whole world and us.
Snow is dying so I get in my car
And waste some gas hoping to outlive
The Greatest Addressee banned from any bar.
I sit, change my seat again, drink and try to dry heave
my pale songs of pee, bad even with a guitar.
I forgot to put on my licence what to believe.
Snow melts and I want to be drunk Penguins.
From Ludlow to Eternity
I have never been fond of fancied worlds
So imagine how I feel about the outside one.
On the way from Ludlow to Eternity
My shoes went flat between
Dixville Notch and Millsfield
Because I kicked a cat. He cried booze and moonshine.
My nails started bleeding and my feet
were shrinking. I fell and the hairy sky
swam in red feathers hanged by its handy ankle.
I ate a lot of plums hence my blues could see
A veteran elephant and a bold donkey.
Concerned by my situation, they cut my legs off.
The elephant threw me on his back.
His feet wounded by grey feathers
weighing heavily on the ground.
He was protective and carried me
To an even older elephant cemetery.
He crawled in a hole. I drilled the donkey.
They would talk loudly about circles and lines and repeat again.
I met all their donkey-friends that would guide me to Eternity.
My mechanic arm would stretch and once I saw a ditch.
They were so obnoxious and never noticed the gap.
Instead of a final leap, I beheaded this jackass
with anecdotal facts and only seventy dollars per year.
Laying on the ground I met a companion. His name was
Thunder Jr. and he brought me to Eternity.
As I waved him away, I understood that there will always be
an elephant waiting for a cemetery,
and in the shrewdest snow lost in the crowd another donkey.
Yet, I am still legless, hopeless and lonely.