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December 24, 2009

Soon

Christmas will start in June the shops will target us in March
Santa puffing his way round shopping centers as an annual fixture
of rolling laughter and x-mas lights we will never pull down lighting
the plastic to sky and the poets will hide
in the dark
wondering where the fuck Christ is.

Soon

the Easter Bunny can visit three times a year or we could kill two rituals
with the one advertisers wet dream:
we can breed him with Santa – a hybrid fat jolly
man rabbit with pointy ears
who can lay presents and shit chocolate, eat raw carrots and drink beer
if we could then just have our birthdays
(all 80 if you’re lucky)
before we’re born again but

the poets tears are not for sale
this year
this poet’s tears are no longer fears
I fear

Poetry by Ghostboy –

Thank you.
And Merry fucking Christmas.

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