12.24.2019

what child is this




HOLIDAY MUSIC

The empty duplex is quiet tonight
though not completely silent.
Drumming in the basement –
Khaled rehearsing our old duet.

From different corners of the same planet
immigrants & refugees
hasten to the Twin Cities
as to gemΓΌtlich haven or warm magnet.

& history is like a palimpsest of pelts
trapped in somebody’s woods
before there were neighborhoods
or streetlights – only raw scalps, rotting guilts.

When we were that City on a Hill
of our imagination –
special paragon of Creation,
establishing law-&-order by God’s will

on earth.  But it wasn’t so beautiful.
The Magi rode by camel
across a parochial hell
subject to Herod & his trumpets (terrible);

the angels remained invisible, mostly;
& both the Ark of the Covenant
& ironclad Ship of State
came to resemble that drafty, mangy

manger itself.  Where Mary lay
& her shivering baby sighed
& Joseph almost died
of inhumanity.  Hush little baby, don’t you cry.

12.24.19

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