dying for Christmas version 1
December 5, 2007
The tree we cut
and carried
into our home
the one
we shackled
trimmed
sang to
and toasted
(rip a suckling child
from its mother)
(put makeup on a statue)
(be happy at a rape)
now lies on
its side
in the gutter
alone
with hooks
and tinsel
blowing in the wind
qazse 