(Chirstmas Day, 1917)THE FIVE O'CLOCK prairie sunset is a strong man going to sleep after a long day in a cornfield.
  
The red dust of a rusty crimson is fixed with ******* of lavender. A hook of smoke, a woman's nose in charcoal and ... nothing.
  
The timberline turns in a cover of purple. A grain elevator humps a shoulder. One steel star whisks out a pointed fire. Moonlight comes on the stubble.
  
"Jesus in an Illinois barn early this morning, the baby Jesus ... in flannels ..."

'TWAS THE MORNING OF CHRISTMAS
AND THE WORLD WAS CONCERNED
NO GIFTS WERE DELIVERED
WE WOKE UP AND LERARNED
WHAT HAPPENED TO SANTA?
WHY DID HE NOT COME
THE PARENTS WERE WORRIED
THEY WERE FEELING QUITE GLUM
HE'D NEVER FORGET US
ON PURPOSE, THEY SAID
PERHAPS SOMETHINGS HAPPENED
PERHAPS SANTAS DEAD
THIS SURE COULDN'T HAPPEN
OUR DEAR SANTA DIE
WHEN THE WORLDS CHILDREN HEARD THIS
THEY ALL STARTED TO CRY
ALL THIS WATER IS RISING
AND IT'S GETTING QUITE HIGH
THEY SAT AND THEY THOUGHT
THAT THERE MUST BE A REASON
THAT ST. NICK PASSED US BY
DURING THIS CHRISTMAS SEASON
PERHAPS WE'VE FORGOTTEN
WHAT CHIRSTMAS IS FOR
IT'S FOR LOVING EACH OTHER
NOT JUST SHOPPING IN STORES
PERHAPS SANTA THOUGHT
THAT THE WORLD HAD GONE BAD
WE MUST ALL HEAD OUT NORTHWARD
TO THE POLE WE MUST GO
WE;LL TELL WE'RE SORRY
HEL'LL BELIEVE US , I KNOW
WE'LL HEAD OUT DIRECTLY
BEFORE THIS DAY ENDS
WE;LL HEAD OUT TOGETHER
AND WE'LL MAKE OUR AMENDS
IT TOOK 14 HOURS TOGET TO HIS HOUSE
WE KNOCKED ON THE DOOR
AND WE SPOKE TO HIS SPOUSE
WE TOLD HER WE'RE SORRY
AND WE'LL TRY TO BE GOOD
WHEN BEHIND HER CAME SANTA
HE WAS DRESSED WITH A HOOD
HE SAID "THANK YOU FOR COMING"
"I COMMITTED THE SIN..."
"MY ALARM CLOCK IS BROKEN...
"AND I GUESS I SLEPT IN!"

That Peaceful Ambeince
Filled with Happiness
How can I forget ....

Sweets from Neighbours
Served with Genuine Love.
How can I forget.....

The Music and Dance
On the RoofTop
How can I forget .....

Those Days have gone.
Most of my Neighbours too.
How can I forget ....

Even after 3 Decades
I just long for those moments.

Kiss me like you know what we're doing.
Make me shake with shivers,
like i'm outside naked in the winter.
Wrap your fingers in my hair
like your trying to hold air.
On my neck plant kisses
like that puppy did when you got him for chirstmas.
Hold me close like i'm the rarest rose.
I'll lay my head in the crook of your neck
like its the cool side of my pillow on my bed.
I'll plant gentle kisses on your neck,
like they're secrets.
Trail your fingers across my skin
like i'm your favorite instrument.
Plant kisses along my inner thighs
everyone as sweet as stolen kisses in the night.
Make me sigh like my breath makes you high.
Hold me close all night
like you're afraid i'm going to take flight,
right up until the sunrise.
But never, never, kiss me goodbye.

There’s three ways to burn out a star
Call home and tell your mother you’re doing okay
But you won’t be home for Chirstmas
Tell her the dress she bought you wrinkled
So you cut up the edges with broken glass
Ask her to save your pay stubs in the spare bedroom
With the wedding ring you never could sell
Tell her she’s beautiful despite the lighting because the bulb is in your throat anyway

There’s two ways to burn out a star
Take your roommate out for coffee
Order one thing the cashier likes and another the manager hates
Tell your roommate you couldn’t decide what he’d like best
Ask him about the first time he saw an accident
Ask him if he saw the dog
And if he didn’t you show him where it hurts you most
Right under your navel where that filament got stuck

There’s one way to burn out a star
Leave a voicemail for yourself asking where you’ve gone to
And where did you put all of the towels
Make a fuss about a dinner party
Leave your phone on the bench and put on dark glasses
Walk away slowly while stripping off your clothes
Head into the sea

In the middle of it all, linoleum and cleaners
I find the shelves of candles and pry off their lids
Just to find out what scents they hid.
No noise, no racket, and nothing meaner.

The balsam fir in craters of wax
A chirstmas tree hunt and sugarsnackes
Recollect times to play and relax
Late December days and skies overcast
The carrides back smelled of this.

Of the wild rose, all pink and flush
Our faces betrayed us after stealing a kiss
And stealing away hidden with a wild blush
When asked just where we were.

I’d say the black bamboo
Where the growing pains began
I remembered what I never wanted to know
Smelling her sweat on my hands.

After every cupcake and fall harvest
We felt torn in two
Amidst the parents and summer’s zest
Everything I wanted couldn’t possibly be true,

The strawberries, the honeybees
Clean linen on a quick, tense rainstorm
I fell to my knees,
Afraid that my passions would
Take on another form.

Far too wild and winterborn,
You have your sleights in sympathy
And obtain what may decorate your court
I amuse you with love: an elegy.

But, the heart is no traitor, not to any court
And says I’m no citizen of your lovely heart
I’m a smiling nomad that goes in due time
And, love, we can trade castles
Since you’re no citizen of mine.

Again, the scents linger with no flame to their wick
Closed were their lids to choke out the burn
Cool were the insides, like ash in an urn
A single spark dazzles but goes out too quick
Each smell left unfamiliar may not have you
It’s not you and me, but me and you and you and you.

Light of the world
Flame of loving warmth
Joy and Peace
Blessings throughout
King of Kings
Lord of Lords
Pray to overcome the Pandemic
Goodwill for all
Remembering the unfortunate during this Christmas Season
The Star of wonder and the skies delight
Heart to Heart with love shining bright
Goodness to relish from this Earth
Enrich all of us with a new birth
The family moment
Unity in strength
Appreciations in truth
It’s the loving being proof
Happy Holidays for all seasons

i'm not sure what it is, but tonight i'm thinking about people i used to know.
my childhood best friend, i hear she's awful now but i still love her no matter what, even though i haven't seen her in years. the boy who told me he was in love with me and gave me a crescent-moon thumbnail scar that i still carry today, having not seen him in four years. I look at my left hand and think of our friendship. My grandmother, long past ashes now, with her secret candy drawer, teaching me how to knit and giving me incorrect interpretations of country music. the boy that moved briefly into my drama class, downloaded one of my favourite albums to my phone and took my heart with him when he left. i think of him when i hear those songs, still some of my favourites. ny third grade teacher who told me about idioms and made me write my ks a specific way. my handwriting still looks like your name, sir. the boy who would fix my hair when it got messy, who moved on to cooler friends, and acts like he never touched my face for the sake of it. i still have his number. the girl who i loved books with for years, until we began to read different things and ran out of things to talk about. The boy i dated that sat on the floor of the mall with me and talked to me about all his favourite tv shows and held my head in his lap and never read the book i got him for chirstmas and now only calls me by my last name. the boy who i bought hotwheels in an airport with. i haven't peeled the complementary sticker off my headphones yet, so i haven't stopped thinking of him. on nights like these i miss them. i remember them tenderly. i still feel their phantom arms around me, and it is emptier than a lack of sensation. my heart is a bus stop, more empty for having been full.