Christmas Eve

 

By Bill Berkson

for Vincent Warren

Behind the black water tower
under the grey
of the sky that feeds it
smoke speeds to where a pigeon
spreads its wings
 
This is no great feat
Cold pushes out its lust
We walk we drink we cast
our giggling insults
 
                           Would you please
leave the $2.50 you owe me
I would rather not talk about it
just now           Money bores me I would like
to visit someone who will stay
in bed all day           A forest is rising
imperceptibly in my head
                                                  not a civilized park
 
I think it would be nice this “new
moral odor” no it would not mean
“everything marching to its tomb”
                                                            The water tower
watches over us            Is there someone
you would like to invite        no one.
 


Copyright Credit: Bill Berkson, "Christmas Eve" from Portrait and Dream: New and Selected Poems. Copyright © 2009 by Bill Berkson.  Reprinted by permission of Coffee House Press.
Source: Portrait and Dream: New and Selected Poems (Coffee House Press, 2009)