We aren’t going to be long-lined about this
Or the poetic equivalent of dramatic
And it’s Tumblr that capitalizes the first letter
Of every line, I want to make that clear
It’s the “holidays” (read: Christmas with respectful, deferential exceptions if you’ve got your own other thing
But it’s Christmas that’s ubiquitous and uquittably the baseline
Like grass or asphalt)
So what that means is you miss someone
Or you’re with someone you would miss if you weren’t
But if so then you are probably at
Each other’s throats
Because that’s the way it often so often works
(where “works” is in quotes implied because
it is dysfunctional as they come)
You might be better missing them
Give it a human break if you can
Because this is how expectations
Own us. Humans. Never shall it be
All that we might hope it.
Hope is perfect as no night can ever be
The exchange of money for
Goods is always handy. And never adequate.
This occurs to me on the road.
Love practically set aside for logistics in raising
Rituals enshrined in catalogs
To a most intimate group choreography
Just another night.
Make it a
Good one on its
Own not some
Top of mind, riding in the Mazda 3