Mrs. Claus was at the door
Making sure that Santa knew
He had to see the doctor
He must be there by two

Santa gruffed and grumbled
Said there's too much to be done
"You know I hate the doctor"
"The doctor's just no fun"

Mrs. Claus held fast and said
"You do this every year"
"and you always have a new excuse"
"when the appointment time is near"

Santa, said he'd do it
Although, it was done under duress
He could run an elven workshop
But the doctor, was more stress

He made it to the office
At two, precisely on the nose
The first thing the nurse said was
"Santa, take off all your clothes"

"You know we have to weigh you"
"It's in the contract that you signed"
"A little extra weight shift"
"Could get the sleigh all misaligned"

The scale said way past jolly
He was twenty pounds past plump
He was just below horrendous
Santa Claus was one fat lump

The doctor read the clipboard
And made a tsk tsk tsking sound
He said "Santa, you're much bigger"
"You're almost 5 full feet around"

"I have with me a letter"
"That the vet asked me to read"
"It says unless you drop some blubber"
"Four more reindeer you will need"

"Now, every story book out there"
"Names eight reindeer in line"
"And since you hired Rudolph"
"A lot have you with nine"

"But the vet now says you need thirteen"
"To get up in the sky"
"You've got to change your diet"
"Santa, please lay off the pie"

"I'm not saying all at once"
"But, you've got to drop some weight"
"Or, you'll be dropping gifts by plane"
"And you'll still be over weight"

Santa tried a little laugh,
Not a full out ** ** **
Truth be told, he'd lose his breath
He knew the weight would have to go

He got down off the table
Put on his hat, and Santa Suit
He looked as red as ever
When he tried to reach his boot

The doctor said "Good God Man"
"You can't go up like that"
Santa said "I'm fine doc"
"The kids want a Santa that is fat"

"There's a difference between jolly"
"Like the elf you're supposed to be"
"But Santa, count your chins man,"
"I lose count at twenty three"

"The elves are under orders"
"Not to load the magic sleigh"
"Until you commit to weight loss"
"And you promise right away"

"I know that you are Santa"
"And for this I may get coal"
"But, your wife, Santa...she scares me"
"She said she'd put me in a hole"

"Santa, lose some poundage"
"Give it just a little try"
"It's not right...thirteen reindeer"
"Flying through the Christmas sky"

"I know it's confidential"
"what has happened here today"
"But, Santa...I will tell her"
"If you don't...and right away"

Santa, said he'd try to
He said "just tell me what to do"
"Truth be told there doctor"
"The woman scares me too!!!"

I sleep in my cardboard cottage
That is my current job.
I keep it neat and clean as I can
I am not a slob.
I have my own place staked out
Everyone knows it’s mine.
It keeps the wind off as I doze.
It isn’t perfect but it’s fine.
Part of my job these days is easy;
I set out a cup and sing.
It doesn’t make me a million
But it is something.

When the weather warrants it
I sleep in the park
In the bright warm sunshine;
Stay awake in the dark.
It seems the citizens and cops
All leave me alone
Even though they still talk to me
With condescending tone,
Tsking at my laziness in general
Give the charity buck
Or maybe a quarter when they see
Since I’m down on my luck.

There’s this guy Hay Soose
But he spells it Jesus.
He could spell it that way
If he so pleases
But that don’t keep him dry
Whenever it rains
And it doesn’t stave most of the
Deep arthritic pains
From sleeping under cardboard
As his only roof.
Watch him shiver in winter if
You want some proof.

People have gotten to know me
As I’m here every day.
Some of the even come by with
Nice words to say.
And, I am used to the noise here;
The horns and the noise
Of the workaday world of these folks;
These grownup girls and boys.
Some tell me to go find some work,
I don’t get mad and shout.
I understand they have some hostilities
They have yet to work out.

Some of my neighbors here in cardboard
Dwell here because they
Can’t seem to work life out for themselves
In any other way.
People fire them from any employment
Because they act weird.
Some refuse to bathe or maybe it is
They refuse to cut their beard.
As for me I have had enough of it all;
The rattle and the hum.
I know society has a lot to offer but
I already had some.

zero context shifts

multitasking is multi~asking your brain
to do what does not come naturally,
the enthused poem starts up, lion roaring,
a muscle car, brain throbs organic pulses
semi~******* of a near-completion in
your neuronic *****, exciting and ****
all you-writ so far is:

your name, some crazed, minimal
******* of words with

no context, no preconceived word lotion to
balm-spread over the enflamed areas of
your brain skin
except that it’s
6:47 am, coffee in hand,
your woman slumber rumbles a left over dream,
speechifying, and room, cool conditioned cold,
ignoring notifications of overnight elections,
and a reminder-by-photo where you were this
day seven years ago today, all put asided,
permission ungranted to any distractions,

there will be zero context shifts til the
spillage of your morn squeaking meager is fully
pillage~d here, it be within my it-takes-no-
village,

@ 6:56 and Whitman is tsk-tsking at the low poetry of my scripting, Hafiz says “hey!
nothing about god or love, what good is that?”

but it’s ok for i’ve emptied the early morning
brain bowels,
defused fusses and asides, tossed asided & there is yet some coffee
remaining but the expiation for having been
reborn this newly birthed day has earned me atonement

for taking up space in this planet
and as of yet, I’ve not stated yet to any, no. all
humans, I hate you ~ but the day is infantile
and opportunity plentiful

@7:03AM
nyc
morning
Wed Nov 8,
in the year of hatred,
a/k/a twenty twenty three.

Stop scowling
They’ll never like you
I can’t help but notice
Their noses all look the same
The tip up in the air
Nostrils fully displayed
Black holes of emptiness
Not a sign of any brain

Give them a chance
They aren’t as bad as they seem
I play with my fingernails
You have a lot to say but I won’t look at you
I don’t want you to study my face
To you
I am a shack full of graffiti and rats
A hole of dirt and despair
A candle that deformed into a waxy mound
Of wear
I don’t need to hear the
Tsk tsk tsking  

You’re too abrasive
You’re better than that
Show them who you truly are
Where’s my dull butter knife?
I’ll cut open my torso and give them all of my organs
Here you go
A sloppy mess of blood and guts
That’s what I truly am
Take a hard look
That’s all we are
Didn’t you know?
I didn’t want to resort to show and tell
I didn’t mean to be so pretentious
But you ****,
and love,
and hate,
and laugh,
and yell into the night like I do
Don’t you?

Well,

Don’t you?

Temporal distortions.
3,2,1   1,2,3.
Subconscious contortions.
“Twinkle twinkle little hat,
Tell me on whose head you sat.”
They ask me my name and I want to answer, but they seem to be standing on their heads, and feet do not have ears from what I can tell.
There is a man in the corner aging backwards and an infant in an armchair reading what appears to be Dickens, while puffing on a pipe. He gives me a cold look and also asks me my name.
I start to reply, but he has already buried his head back in the book.

5, 4, 3, 2… 9.
Wait, that isn’t right.
9, 8, 7, 6, 5… 13.
******, that isn’t either.

Cardiovascular erosion.
“Come on then, take a deeeeeep breath. That’s it. Find your inner chi. You are on a splendid beach.”
Synaptic corrosion.
“Now the second law dictates that entropy will always increase, and entropy, as we all know, is the amount of Thetans we possess in our body.

15, 12, 104, 18…
****, what comes after 18?

The people standing on their heads have started singing Christmas songs.
But it is in the middle of Bruly. Christmas is not in Bruly. It is in Leptember. What silly creatures.
Distant phonetics.
If a tree falls in a forest, will it disturb Rip Van Winkle?
Ocular genetics.
Now I quoth Jesus when I say, “If one eyes does cause you to sin, pluck out the other one if it doesn’t want to join in on the fun.

I can no longer speak. My teeth have turned into book pages, dampened by saliva. The man again backwards is now merely a floating fetus in a womb with the infant tsking in disapproval while puffing on his pipe.
The people standing on their heads are singing the wrong words to Oh Holy Night and once more a voice asks me my name.
Suicidal contemplation vs societal insubornation! Who will conquer who..?
Through teethless gums I murmur,
“I have no name, I have no face. I am chaotic understanding made of madness in my veins.
Close your eyes and count to ten.

There was once a time of quietude.
If I said something;
Showed you something,
Or did something; and,
If it was warm and loving,
Interesting or whimsial,
Controversial or agreeable,
You might nod, shake your head,
Sigh,
Perhaps gesture -
Yes or No or Maybe.

I'm reading.
There's too  much noise.
Some friends, many strangers,
Laughing... loudly...
Out loud;
Smiling, hugging, liking, Wowing, loving, tsking. crying...
So much emotion.
I can hear them.

Not long ago,
But mostly gone,
Like silent films
It was quiet.
LOL WOW *** :)

sometimes when I fall asleep midday, I light a candle.
when I awake for moments in between,
it is still flickering around me
on the dark walls of my room,
long after the sun has decided to take its coat.

it is a silent guard,
and my mother  will always come up and remind me
that it is dangerous to have such guards,
and she'll blow air quickly, tsking the smoke as it hits the ceiling

I thought mom and pop would be happy
a baby girl after 5 boys
yes they loved me
with all the pink frills and bows
loved me like mad and treated me like i was made from glass
the green kind
they pinched my cheeks
tugged at the bow in my hair
and tightened the sash at the back of my dress
those ugly ruffled ones
When I become to much for some one to handle
especially ma
it was always wagging of the finger
tsking of the tongue
and wondering where ma had gone wrong
wrong about what, i will never know
I was either hushed, shushed or scolded much later
but I could not venture out for too long
not on my own anyways
there always had to be some one next to me
I wondered what people were afraid of
what they saw in me
I dressed my best and always minded my business
even then i could not stay out to learn nor observe
learn about the world
meet new faces
laugh about something new
look forward to better brighter memories
I had to always come home soon and stay with the elderly or the babies
Work a broom, mop or the occasionally the rolling pin
But it bothered me
How I could  not go out like other women
apparently it was wrong
so i sometimes wish i was small again
not baby small but small enough to fit in mans pocket
go everywhere
see everything
be part of something so big that i cannot explain it to the peoples back home
it sounds strange
i bet no one has ever wished for this
but i know at least he wont let me down

I haven’t had this much fun since the accident
It was nice to count the stars above our heads every night instead of the pills she needed to take every day
It felt great to be able to travel by car to Port Jeff and take everything in, then to travel by car and wait at the doctors office to be surrounded by death and the dying
I spent my last twenty on a much needed pedicure instead of junk food- the only type of food she would cry out for in her sleep
It was a blessing to be able to sit down and actually savor the food put in front of me instead of drinking my self thin on weak tea, broth, sherry and pureed goop.
My nose welcomed comforting smells of baked ziti, pumpkin spice and broccoli pinwheels instead of blood sweat and *****
The sky above has been slashed in shades of purples and pinks which is a nice change from all the black and grey i've been looking at lately
The air is filled with music and laughter instead of the coughing wheezing occasional prayer and curses
There is no blaring tv or radio in sight, going on about how the world is going to **** and people are dying by the dozen
No more tsking and clucking only silence and looks of gratitude.
I will always remember this but I wish I could bring something home instead of burying everything
Sometimes in the deep folds of my mind
And other times deep into the ground
Letting it all become one with the earth.

I have
Many voices
Telling me
About the people I see.

Their words are
like pollen
Spreading within the winds
Clogging your lungs.

He's cheating on his wife
I wonder if I should tell her?
No. That's impertinent.

Of course,
She's lying about her mother
I can't mention that.
No, you can't.

So I sit.
Watching.
Tracking.
Logging.

I'm not autistic,
Nor psychotatic.
Or sociopathic.

I merely have a knack
For noticing and noting
Patterns.

We humans are habitual,
Those that aren't should be avoided!
You're right.
They're dangerous.

For you see,
I may feel love
But they don't

And if your only weakness is
You lack of emotion
Then you're a predator too.

But, I don't want to hurt anyone
Or rather
I don't want to hurt anyone
That doesn't hurt me and mine first.

Me and mine being
Me, myself and I
As well as those that
Control my feelings.

So while a predator
may recognise another
that doesn't mean you are one too.
No.

It may just mean you're diligent.
Vigilant, even.
You care for your loved ones.
Becsuse they are your weakness.

But if I didn't have
Loved ones
Family.

I'd be a threat too, right?
You're far too easy to track
Tsking the same road home Everyday.

I don't want to hurt.
I want to be meaningful.