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Turkeys with bead necklaces


The followers of the One to come twice
celebrate it,
usually a fortnight early
to suit the lovers of saturnalia.
Countries ruled by followers of the same spirit
celebrate it,
offensively officially
to please the partizans of the total state.

Those who disbelieve in gods and demons
join in at it,
because they have not yet been slain before Him,
tho loathed by the devilish divine Mono.
Those who are not wholly hetero are gay at it,
which will be holily for the same reason
in this season.
Those who lack the virtue of being male
keep house at it,
because they have not been conscientized so far,
ignorant of the course of the weaker vessel
on divisive waters.

Not yet taken vengeance on in flaming fire,
still unaware of the snares in the Silent Night,
the turkeys participate in a son-god's Yule.
Their cheers and carols drown out the cries for
a democracy not haunted by ghostly hands,
a public school impartial to every persuasion,
a government respecting the equality of all,
not foisting religious feasts on an entire nation.

While the Northern Yule welcomes the new Norm,
the gobblers and their families blithely collaborate
with the solid exponents
of the old denominational paradigm,
rejoicing with them at their own oppression
or discrimination.
For the turkeys, male and female,
want to be merry, here and now,
irrespective of relevant justice and true peace,
irrespective of reliable happiness.

Lovingly, but not duly interested,
they send everyone their obligatory greetings,
using 'Christian names' to address them
(and to swear).
Preoccupied with their X-mas cards
and X-mas presents,
they are blind to the birth of a new civilization,
or to the need of such a birth.
Engrossed in their X-mas dishes,
they cannot conceive of a Yule without turkeys.

Meanwhile, they keep on gobbling faithfully,
while a thicker and thicker coat of expectations
covers the heavy unnaturalness
of the supernatural stuffing.
How much longer
will the poor forked animal carol this lot?

Vincent van Mechelen
ca 42-65.NMY

The first version of this poem appeared in Six Warlocks My Age, Tale Four: MERRY MYTHMAS -- The Warlocks' Word Made Meat, p.36-37, 45 years after the Second World War. You may also want to read the parallel version in Deze Taal, Het Joelfeest der Kalkoenen, at http://mvvm.net/Nl/Poezie/JoelKalk.HTM.

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