MIDNIGHT MASS

I'm not into
baby Jesus,
or mangers,
or wise men,
three kings,
four queens,
a jack of hearts or
an inside straight.
I have no reason
to pretend
except for
my usual
superstitions.
The woman
I'm seeing
differs; she'd like
me to go with her
& her family
tomorrow; a small
request
she believes.
And I believe
that Santa
took a dump
down my chimney.

I'm a selfish man.
And my previous
love affair
did nothing
to restore my faith
or expand my borders.
If anything
they shrank.
And my last poem
did not endear me
to her either.

I'd like a little
ease, but ease
has never been
easy. This time
of year is a live grenade
of lies. Silent Night
does not need
my voice.

One way
or another
I'll be up
on a cross
tomorrow.
Preferably
alone.
What is
is.

Norman Savage
Greenwich Village, 2014