Bunny Scent
My Dog Would Kill
Oh Give Me A Hill!
Walk Don't Run
Wise Crack
Joy Is In My Blood
Second Brain
humanity is a tiger
monkey gun
It Came To Me This Morning
tetrahedral cull cathedral
Four Tribes
It Passes, The Night
Loki & Lucifer
Love & Laughter
I'm A Born-Again Virgin
Subliminal Pornography
Luscious Lips of Lily
I Will Follow
Science and Dreamer
The Blood-Spattered Banner
America Was Invented
So You Think It Was Coincidence
The Magic Spell
There Is A Graven Image
Mass-Marketed Sports
Do You Wear A Tie?
The Veil
Water Water
Their Halls Ring With Laughter
The Story of Christmas
Poem For A Past Pontiff
Exodus 20 Revisited

Burning Man sound poems

Interactive Poems:


The Story of Christmas

Jesus was born December 25th
So was Attis and Mithra and Horus
And dozens of others of ancient gods
Our rulers have concocted for us

It’s all about worship of Sol, you see
That’s why Sun-day’s the day that you pray
And why the yearly course of the sun
Informs almost each holy-day

The Messiah is the solar disk
As it moves in the northern sky
Because of the angle of axis of Earth
In December it seems to “die”

Its lowest rising is day 22
Then for 3 days it seems to be “dead”
Then on day 25 it appears to revive
Rising out of its solar death bed

The sun at this time is closely aligned
With the bright “Southern Cross” constellation
Which is why, far and wide, god’s crucified
Before his revivification

The star in the East is Sirius
Aligned with the belt of Orion
(Also known as “3 Kings”
As through heaven it swings)

And it points there on the horizon
Where the sun is being born again
Which at Easter we honour outright
Since at the time of spring equinox
The day becomes longer than night

To a virgin he’s born on that winter morn
Since in Virgo is time of the reaping
Fulfillment of the appointment with life
Which the sun in its rebirth is keeping

And he travels with twelve companions
The zodiacal signs
Which accompany the Sun of God
As he marks out celestial time

So the story’s a fiction
A human depiction of astronomical fact
Re-imagined by priests, and not the least
For the servitude they could exact

And that is not all that one can recall
Of the fables assigned to this season
So chaotic and weird do the stories appear
That it’s hard not to question your reason

You might want to pause to recall Santa Claus
A saint known by all for benevolence
Turned into a shill for a capitalist will
With bizarre supernatural elements

And all adults agree that this odd fantasy
In the children should be inculcated
So the one thing they know as their little ones grow
Is the pure must in time become jaded

But before you decide that I hate the Yuletide
The mendacity I am implying
The fact is I’m elated, as it’s celebrated,
So much joy can survive all that lying