You said it's going to be awhile, but you know something will happen,
You stupid little boy.
I don't want a relationship, not because I want to wait for you,
But, it's because I prefer my whiskey and kids' toys.

You obviously know your relationship won't last, though.
That's pretty sad, knowing you'll come back to me.
You're pretty pitiful,
But, I don't give you up because you're like a true lover and family.

It's going to be awhile, is that what you said?
That must mean your love for her is already dead,
If you're dating her, knowing you two will come to an unfortunate end.
But, I don't care because I have my whiskey and toys,

You know that it isn't going to last,
And you say it like you'll be coming back to me. That's pretty stupid,
Practically infidelity,
But, in a more heart wrenching package for that pitiful unloved soul, that you call your girlfriend.

But, you see, I won't be waiting for you,
Because I'm married to my whiskey.

Shop windows dazzle in the sun,
attracting tourist moths with money.
They gape and point and squint and pay.

Behind the glass the ugly cuddly
stare back, glare in disgust at the stack
of dazed outsize heads on parade.

Ranks of captured trolls boil with rage,
their destinies - slobbering kids,
hot rooms, pink rabbits, red balloons.
No match for their cool mountain caves.

Beware these creatures of mischief
and fear. They bear malice - kitsch, occult.
Do not mock them. Stick them on your shelves.
They are our other selves.

give me something you know I'll break,
tempt me with a toxic toy I'll tell myself to play with,
until it's sides are broken and bruised,
and you'll find me on the highest shelf,
dented, a disaster crying for a new devil to destroy me.

I don't believe in childish things,

like santa,

I don't partake anymore in the act of gift getting,

I used to believe that all these things used to be what christmas time was for,

but what about the kids who never got even 1 gift this season,

we hardly hear their cries,

there happy to have they family together just for christmas night,

but what about those kids,

who can't even get that,

santa must not like them then,

*** santa has forgotten them,

no,

because there's no such thing as santa,

and I have not forgotten them,

but who else has not forgotten them,

someone needs to help them,

I used to believe in santa,

I used to get gifts,

but now I ask my family to give my gifts to other kids,

this seasons about giving,

so give to someone who has less.

I’ll do you like your
Eyes
Ask me to,
As relentlessly
As your
Smile’d
Wish, come every our
Encounter.

I’ll do you, like the –
Plastic, porcelain, and
Polymer
Scenery –
Holography and
Hidden drawers,
Once a sin and
Twice a cross.

I’ll do you, as
I’m, and a first,
If only an
“Object.”
I know it, but you don’t.
You love it, but I won’t,
Because you’d only burn,
Come knowing I’m, “taken.”