Chinese on Christmas

Nothing is open on Christmas. Definitely most restaurants are shuttered and dark. There’s nothing available in the line of grub but Chinese food… and that place was packed! We waited an hour for a table and then waited a half hour for a plate of lukewarm orange chicken. But it’s not the place that is important but the people you’re with. Today is a day for being with your loved ones and that’s all that counts.

I hope everyone got to be with their loved ones today.

This life goes by too quickly to let it slip away nonchalantly, tied to apathy, ego, blah blah bullshit… to let the days fall off the calendar unremarked upon. I want to draw a masterpiece on each day, with a crayon or a marker or whatever gets the job done! There’s probably a phrase in Latin that will express what I’m feeling but all I know is English.

All I know is my tangential piss-poor poetry.

The cat stalks the mouse
while the buses kick exhaust across
this blistered city,
I sit in the shade of an old oak
wondering why I’m not an ox of a man
but this wandering lemming, wording
this dented lament so
the sharp edges are dulled to a
swallowable capsule.
I am a swallowable capsule…
take me whole, will ya?

Yeah, piss poor, I tell ya.

But on Christmas it’s quite alright to be a knockoff poet, a Polaroid paranoid, a half-hearted louse, as long as you’re with the ones you love. That’s the meaning of the day… the reasons we sing carols and toast egg nog… even if we don’t like egg nog… and I really hate egg nog.

So Merry Christmas, everyone!!!

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One response to “Chinese on Christmas

  1. ah and happy new year
    blistered city, dented lament,
    image of wandering lemmings,
    a swallowable, tiny space capsule (with lights on beaming out and lots of action inside
    cant be seen as psspoor unless unless well unless you r the best (critic of yr own work with xceptionally high skill standards tward which humbility i bow in the full regalia, wonderful, thanks

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