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
