Saturnalia

The dark winter cold takes its toll on the spirit of humanity huddled round a fire for a million years unless of course you are a Laplander or Eskimo,
who learned how to make it work to their advantage, like Bushmen
forced into the most barren remote deserts yet survive against
the onslaught of what is called progress, the million things
that the corporations make which pass for culture
and try to replace all things familiar like family
as if corporations can take care of all human
needs and when that lie is done the church
takes over what is left and how busy a
young man Jesus would have grown
up to be in todays world trying
to toss all the money lenders
out of every temple so
sweet baby Jesus,
Happy Birthday
we celebrate
Saturnalia
Friends
Romans,
Countrymen
Lend me your Doe
come I to burry Caesar,
not to praise him buying
things in the mall, if only man
could live on bread alone aye Bradley?
It won’t be like it used to be but it will do
and when we are all soon dead and gone our
long lost relatives will descend like a swarm of locusts
to pick over our things pulling up with pick up trucks they will