Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Commercial Christmas.

I hate your winter coat
with its synthetic fur fluffed so high
off your thin shoulders.
It is the strangest combination
of sodden wealth and self-righteous glow
because after all
it is not really fur.
Merely some woven chemical stretched
turned and stitched by some small hand
the smaller for the small coin
for the small rice bowl
at the end of the long day.
Let the crowds count your righteousness with you
and let them imagine counting your coin
running so deep over their hungry fingers
that they could dare
with nonchalance
to walk about in that sort of thing
that has neither the grace of beauty
nor the virtue of price
but merely reekx with an obnoxious indifference
towards taste and tact.
Truly it is one of a kind.
How I wish you were.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

This one made me laugh. It is so ironic how we take the story of a boy being born in a stable to a poor and shunned family, some slightly crazy shepherds and some rich travelers who showed up a bit later and were the accidental cause of a huge infanticide and we focus on the fact that they were rich. "How I wish you were" was delightfully cutting.