Merry Christmas
A lukewarm bottle of beer
or two
or three
just to ease into the propagated spirit
and a can of beans with a mock turkey loaf
climaxed with yet more late night telescreen
on the flickering old Sony
the gifts of life from Christ who works in the aftershave department
blessing the meek with Mastercard
and the disciples of bill collectors that work in his name
tumorous tomorrows
the happy lechery of life
smashed in
in barrages of artillery of lies
constructed in the armament factories
of technocratic trawler monsters
netting misery and profits
canning and contributing to false consciousness
for legions of upper class suburban aspirers
but the peaks are already
Auschwitzed
even before the expedition has departed
Robert K. Stephen
