Bethlehem

It's Friday where I'm standing

Saturday when I'm blinking,

Your savior is dead and gone

My dreams are disconcerting

This year I ask for nothing

And got just what I wanted,

For two thousand years

you've all drowned out

All means of material wanting.

It's Friday where I'm standing

Saturday when I'm blinking,

Your wishes will not be heard

For there is no savior in your ceiling.

Dying vagrants wanted

Just as the poorest man

Every lad and lass for seasons pass,

Will suffer in this daunting.

Sorrow is a chasm,

and joy a wishing well,

Every coin tossed

Mouths at loss

Bread costs for every fable.

To hold another in the light

To gather round a glass

Bahumbug to you,

your celebrations used

You forgot just where we're at!

Killing, drilling, Christ is war

As you raise the cocktail.

As deserts die, bodies pile-

For his name is eternal warfare.