Happy Holidays

to the universe of races, religions, traditions and faiths,
to the atheists,
to those who believe in God but not that Jesus of Nazareth was the only true God,
to those that do,
to those who are not really interested either way and are cool with that,
to those who believe God exists but who have no faith in God,
to those who have been hurt by those who say they believe in God,
to those who are not sure what to believe but are cool with that,
to those who are still seeking something but not sure what,
to those who have had their land stolen and cultures pissed on by those who say they come in the name of God,
to those who did the raping, stealing and forced assimilation in the name of God,
to those who are completely private about their beliefs and go about their good work quietly without seeking applause,
to those who won't shut up about the good work they do and are always seeking applause,
to those who see the glass as half-empty,
to those who see the glass as half-full,
to those who point out that both views are correct,
to those who are forces of unity and understanding,
to those people who would divide,
to those who understand sometimes both behaviours are correct,
to those who follow the "law of non-contradiction,"
to those that understand "paradox,"
to those who understand that both views are correct,
to those that believe in the separation of church and state,
to those that don't,
to those just walking around looking for beauty,
for faith and hope,
who are sick of everybody's bullshit,
and the constant and insipid verbal vomit of political and religious "language,"
toughing it out in this world of hurt,
and, maybe some days, still believe in love...

...happy holidays (if you are taking any),

and if you find joy, spread some around.

black leather gloves

thick and tight,
tense and tough,
jeans over work boots,
any night is enough,
dim bulbs in rusty sockets,
black leather gloves in back pockets,
beers go down,
hockey on the screen,
it gets rough,
then it gets mean,
spinning minds and cold stares,
girlfriends start to fuss and pout,
takes only a second to get the gloves out,
nowhere to go,
amidst the trucks and cars,
red blood on white snow,
under a black sky and white stars.



(the tip of my hat to my buddies from small towns)

the gods are gone

woman leans against the bus stop,
headphone hiss from a skater's trip hop,

I gasp,
like a child,
thrown to the waves,

I crumple,
like an old man punched,
too tired to defend himself,

I reach,
like an addict,
for the joy of what's killing me,

I pray,
to gods that are long gone,

we've been left to:
produce,
innovate,
humanize,
and re-value our "values,"

like beaten blacksmiths of a rusted and weathered guild,
to tear down and re-build,

so if the gods are gone,
is it wrong...
to feel a rescue coming on?