A Christmas poem

Yes, world of indifference,
Machinations, dry desires, wet breasts,
Naked woman in my room,
Not a whore,
Not a whore,
Not today.
This is the time, but not the place.
You can choose your saints.
They’re on display on the sidewalk.
Are they bleeding?
They are the masters. We’re the victims.
They’re the victims. We’re the masters.
They’re the victims.
We’re the victims.
No penitence, but charm.
No penitence, but charm.
Amen.
Spare me the salvation.
Spare me the hour.
Spare me the words that
Have been reshaped, reconfigured,
Redirected, reassigned.
Oh, Lord, let me seek the emotion
Among the rubbles of reason.
Oh, Lord, this is not the time,
This is not the place.
I need a whore, Jesus,
But not today, not today.
© Ernesto González, 2011

2 thoughts on “A Christmas poem

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