Do not tell me to shine my light into a dark room.
I prefer the absence of such interventions
To pedantic purpose and tithed out virtue.
Do not ask me to confess anything to you either.
I long ago opened the hollowed out cage
Emptied its still beating contents in a sieve
And went on my way to the soup kitchen
To eat hearty with my true friends,
While Yuletide chilled the empty altar to excess
With its gaily wrapped boxes chock filled
With nothing we really need or want.
Especially don’t ask me to make fruitless visits
To long ago causes that still make my face burn
As if I really believed in them…
It is too late to cook for the masses anyway,
The cookies are burned, the gift wrap torn,
The little boy at my door with his list
Turned away empty handed,
The coins I would give him
Shrivel in my pocket as I
Toss away my cellphone
And ring the women’s shelter by land line instead.
Talking truth to a desperate human being, I find
Merry times speed past when we redeem each other
And leave both hypocrisy and sainthood behind.