Monday, December 25, 2006

On Santa Claus

On Santa Claus

Nailed to a tree, as "art" only saying
Things we already knew, nothing shocking
To move the mind, uproot the heart or soul.
It is just more commercialized pablum,
Like signing urinals, post modern shocks
That cause no dialogue, only crude laughter.

And yet kids (still thinking art has meaning)
Will want answers to their many questions.
We can tell them Santa is hanging there
On the world tree, seasonal sacrifice
Of consumer kitsch to itself once more.
We can say Santa will eternal lie
Hibernating beneath the arctic ice
Never sleeping, eternally lying
Until the next Christmas season, waking,
Giving gifts to the good, whipping the bad
(having Black Peter whip them in his stead,
for legal reasons -- and he likes to watch).

And if the children, confused, then wonder
About Christian symbolism, we tell
Them Christ was a revolutionary
And not an artist, leaving it at that.

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