We sit here
thigh to thigh
in the lap of
this impossible
Black christmas
my mother and sister-
mothers to my right
my father five years
flown somewhere
in a sanctuary
of souls
We joke and laugh
about him fondling
his gray-less goatee
loving on mirrors
being filled with
jolly juice
and crashing
like shelves
but springing up
forever springing
like hope
He sported a meaaaaan
crown Wore good clothes
And rode that silky blue
Cadillac till the wheels fell off
My, my, my
is all we said
so little time
we had
so little time
we have
to enjoy
to live
to breathe
to rejoice
so so little
time
time
time
