Christmas Paranoia
Paranoia is a
barewire
sense of
forces.
Paranoia is a
barewire
sense of
forces.
Paranoia is a
barewire
sense of
forces.
Am I
making you
nervous?
A nervous
paranoid
slips on
the ice &
lies there
weeping
like a
child
like a
woman
like someone
making good
use of
his
tear ducts.
His children
come to
visit at
Christmas
where they’ve
got him
locked down
in a
straitjacket
in a
rubber room.
They wave
thru the
soundproof glass
as he
rolls like
crazy from
one end
of the
room to
the other,
snarling &
biting at
his restraints.
They throw
kisses &
then hightail
it out
of there
wondering
if this
will throw
the will
into probate.
Paranoia is a
barewire
sense of
forces.
Somewhere in
Bethlehem
a child
is born
without
making a
sound.
Well, someone has to offset all this manic, largely fabricated Christmas joy; if you understand why people commit suicide during the holiday season, you’ll understand why a poem like this might prevent them from doing so… merry Christmas.
Written and first sent out during the Christmas season, 2009.
