When a leading star
cast a ray of hope
on a manger
where a mother
birthed love
by pain and tears
there Santa appears
before dawn
where the child was born.

I'd prefer
to be a here
a tic there a tic tacky nerd

but yeah, I have a hindi or u
a friend who is of that
what do we pc say
caste or creed
I don't know
we never broached or app
roached who has known not
the idea of dharma as where we
was found,
all turned around, is it worth
a thought,
and then what's a thought's worth?
a kind of cosmic image imagi djenjoin

With smiles and merry spirits, we cruelly celebrated your demise.

Ginsburg threw me a line…

"on the black waters of Lethe", as I floated by.
A ware, launched in antiquity as tonal code,
lazily waiting the call,
dum did dum dum dum, drum drum drum

Big bass,
tickled in tune to the whistler washing dishes,
in the back, we've all seen
in the back, on TV

but are you,
really, for all reality is worth,
are you experienced, have you gone this far
before?

Have you changed a diaper on a rich old lady?

Seems like, right, one word to another,
line upon line, precepts perceptively retained.
Precious little is as it was.

Pre is a time-wise measure, how can we think
past thoughts,
we never cross the same river twice.

No question demands an answer in truth,
demands are put on servants, while we
are known as friends,
to all those floating on the Lethe,

well below the leavee, see, there those
same ol' good ol' boys discerning whiskey from rye.

They see time's a river, and I agree,
says this story to me, but
I say, it is a river of light on a bubble's inner edge,
I been there, Age of Lethe, a game I invented,

-- a virus, plays by lethargic rules, no effort needed,
living to steal and **** and destroy,

a minimalist First Person Shooter, steal **** destroy,

then it was hacked, steal **** destroy, mutated into
take **** destroy give,

which was odd, because all truth comes in three
pointy things, if then else
oops opposites spoo ffffffff effect

****** drama writ large, it was us,
the muses, dis-mazing the mazed again
a loss of time,
too bad. Three points equal one try. Aim.

So sad. Grieve for the fallen all we never knew,
the heroes unsung.

Goto the ant, thou sluggard living in a floating Barco
Lounger, drifting aimless--- ah, what if not,

what if I know a place,
just around the next bend, and

we get off there? What then, it's my story?

Merry Christmas to Fitness
But mostly to Sickness.
Merry Christmas to Business
But mostly to Holiness.
Merry Christmas to Joyfulness
But mostly to Loneliness.
Merry Christmas to misses
But also to every mistress.
Merry Christmas to everyone who is religious
But also to those who are superstitious.
Merry Christmas to impulsiveness
But mostly to wiseness.
Thus, Best Wishes for All: I have plentiful.

Only wonder if the etymology might be
'Mary kiss my ... '
Surely not! Forgive my Rudeness!

And so Merry Christmas to Rudeness
But mostly to Forgiveness.

It’ll be an old fashioned Christmas,
with Santa due down the chute.
I bet he Purells his reindeer,
and Lysols his hazmat suit.

It’s an old fashioned Christmas.
We’ll all have on our masks,
and our muffled yuletide carols,
will be just like seasons past.

We’ll observe all the guidelines.
We’ll eat six feet apart.
We’ll have disinfectant under the mistletoe,
and keep safety in our hearts.

Sure, it’s an old fashioned Christmas.
One unique to the times.
The love this year might be careful,
but the feelings are genuine.