birthday ii

in the year of our lord who paused with force to blow the doors open for a lost to cause
that all who floss to have clean teeth or feats stronger than the beat
of a still heart pumping blood moving feet on the earth
as it rotates towards the sun for fun not long gone
born in the year of the fat cat who hates rats for a fact
as witnesses pass tracts in packs of pacts made to save lost souls
for more goals to be had in the life after death
lies to the truth teller who dwells in a cellar hidden behind bricks built by his friendly enemy
while sampling the wonderful fruits of juice from the labor of feet born in the year of the pig
too big to move quickly avoiding beating sticks leading to a man’s table,
breaking fasts in sizzling pans opening nostrils to glorious worship
as the sound of the fryer blind’s the desire to all but food,
hunger, rules as the mind begs for energy to do its thinking,
wondering, if we all marked the birth of the year from the day we are born,
what would the world look like?
how many resolutions would we make on your birthday in honor of the cycle of revolutions you have made on this planet as it rotates ever slowly into the sun, what is a new year?
who cares or fears fading away into oblivion if he does not cheer?
in the year of the fierce snake protecting its take from all who would dare come near its nest
for fear of its children being raped or pillaged by foreigners with guns or machines that trump
the existence of indigenous cops patrolling grounds for planted corn to share with the hungry world

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