—ALL OF MY BEST FRIENDS ARE STRANGERS

dear christmas

there’s a broken

bell or tree

branch stuck / struck

inside my throat this time

of year / hour

morning / mourning

i’m crushing under

the weight of a

glacier because i

remember you

differently

a sober morning

before the ripe

wreckage and

ruptured carpussels

smoke genies blinding

both my eyes / selves

my mother’s been

boxed for more

than a thousand years

yet she still lives

here

cozy as a hag

wearing a festive wig

one hand barbed

the other swollen

thick as the horror

of your holiday

if there’s something

you need to say

don’t

instead hike up your

grubby sheet and

tell your holy ghosts

no thank you

we’re done

i’m turning on the

light