StarPoet Newsletter Vol. XII, No. I

If I were natal and you unmarried
And we were three or four decades younger,
I would like to meet you, have you bed me,
And make a half dozen olive skinned babies,
Living happily everafter until our late mid-forties
When our lives collapse in an ugly, drawn out divorce
That headlines TMZ and all the remaining news sites.

If some unknown something
Had not stopped the dinosaurs cold
-- An asteroid, food poisoning,
           Less oxygenated air --
The mammals, those noble ancestors
Of man, would still most likely
Be small shrewish creatures afraid
To leave our crevices in the daylight.

So here's to catastrophe, savior of humanity,
Who gave us a chance to prosper
By destroying the species that dominated us
And showed every good intention of doing so
For god knows how many more millions of years.

The world is quiet in anticipation
Of Christmas and the festivities,
Families are enroute to families
Ladened with children,
Frankencense and fruitcakes,
Presents have been gathered
Beneath gay yule trees
That wait to receive
More loot from Santa;

The sky is clear,
The snow may be coming,
Mulled wine warms slowly on a burner,
Stars and comets will fill the heavens
The night before the world begins.

I am conscious of being conscious
That I am conscious,
I know that I know that I know
And behind all that,
I sit watching me watch myself
Watch myself watching.

I am, the universe is, we are,
One and separate in the moment;
Time does not move for consciousness,
Only the flesh counts the minutes and the days;
I would be immortal if I were not busy dying
Since the hour my body stopped growing.

Christmas Eve morning,
Three days past solstice,
The house is as reasonable as
Working women can make it;
The decorations are up,
The presents are wrapped,
Cedar is bordercollie-ing
In anticipation of the kids:
Sharon is working
On beef bourguignon
While I fill the stockings
And ready the antipasto
That will occupy our guests
Until our chef has finished
Her magical incantations.

When the great reprogrammer
Comes for me at last
To wipe my circuits clean
And recycle all my bits and pieces
Into something other than I am,
I will object, tired as I may be,
And charge you all to remember me
For as long as the suns shall rise
And the rivers flow
Over the wind blown hills
Of all our many earths.

Here comes the New Year,
There goes the old,
300 billion Americans,
A-whaling for to go;

One if by land, two if by sea,
A recession's not a depression
It's all too easy to see;

Presidents, senators, congressmen all,
Standing in the doorway,
Fiddlin' in the hall;

Come landsmen, come kinsmen,
Come soldiers and sailors,
Pick up your arms,
Lock and load your weapons;

There's a riot going on,
There's dancing in the streets,
And we can't seem to remember
Which way is our way back home.

My family would have me bride and mother
If the world had been other than it was;
I would willingly have been a virtuous daughter,
A well loved Sicilian princess, and obey;

I would have got my degree, found a nice boy,
Married in a big church wedding and reception
And baptized my children, one by one, in the presence of
My parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins;

I would have made a good life with my family,
Cooking Sunday dinner when it was my turn,
Holding Christmas at my house when I
Was old enough to be next in line.

I miss the world I had little chance to know
And the time, now passed, when we all gathered
Without ever questioning whether we'd all
Grow old together with our grandchildren.

I know who stood for me at my christening,
My Uncle and his wife, my Aunt,
But I never found out how closely
I may have been to my Godfather;

He still might have been in Chicago,
My Grandfather never said,
Or he could have been in Frisco,
Living high atop Nob Hill.

The rumors about my other Uncle,
May or may not have been true,
The police certain though they were
And Joe did little to discourage them.

I grew up accepting I was Sicilian,
With roots in Chi-Town and Palermo,
I never questioned any family member
And they, in turn, never asked me a favor
They would have earnestly expected
I would be willing to provide.

Hazelnut treasures, cranberry thins,
A good Irish cheddar and some
Meaty cracked kalamata;
Apples and oranges, holiday plates,
Coffee and diet cokes,
A glass of good Bordeaux;
Cinnamon bun candles
Scenting the gathering room,
Bocelli and Tony Bennett
Playing in the background,
Adeste Fideles, Drummer Boy
And Coventry Carol.