{"id":620,"date":"2012-12-16T11:33:42","date_gmt":"2012-12-16T11:33:42","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/iraia.net\/blog\/?p=620"},"modified":"2022-12-25T13:45:44","modified_gmt":"2022-12-25T05:45:44","slug":"a-madmans-christmas-prayer","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/iraia.net\/blog\/2012\/12\/16\/a-madmans-christmas-prayer\/","title":{"rendered":"A madman’s Christmas prayer"},"content":{"rendered":"
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A living ghost haunts the private road between the slaughterhouse and the Resurrection.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

This is not a poem. It’s something I wrote several Decembers ago, posted originally on another blog site, and reposted here with a few minor revisions. I call it meditative prose. And since it’s addressed to someone who may or may not be there, I also call it a prayer. If you feel offended or blasphemed by references to Jesus, then stop reading right here.<\/p>\n

###<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

dear mr. jesus christ,<\/em>
\n some say you’re god<\/em>
\n others say you’re a prophet.<\/em>
\n a few say you were a rebel leader<\/em>
\n who got too unlucky<\/em>
\n and nailed real bad.<\/em>
\n but i’m sure you’re a friend.<\/em>
\n at least you look like me.<\/em>
\n i think.<\/em>
\n anyway.<\/em>
so tomorrow’s december 25.<\/em>
\n everyone says it’s your birthday<\/em>
\n and we all should be merry,<\/em>
\n you know, like the fat man in red<\/em>
\n with a sleighful of gifts.<\/em><\/p>\n

i may be an escapee<\/em>
\n from insanity row<\/em>
\n but i know, tomorrow<\/em>
\n isn’t your real birthday<\/em>.
\n how do i know?<\/em>
\n simple fact:<\/em>
\n hospitals back in the day<\/em>
\n didn’t issue birth certificates.<\/em>
\n and your mom didn’t even<\/em>
\n get to a health clinic on time.
\nso how could anyone prove<\/em>
\n your real birth date?<\/em>
\n you didn’t have school records.<\/em>
\n nor a police record like i do.<\/em>
\n besides, the julian calendar<\/em>
\n of your generation, sorry to say,<\/em>
\n was a farking mess.<\/em>
\nbut i digress.<\/em><\/p>\n

i’m praying to you, my friend<\/em>
\n to thank you for this life’s blessings<\/em>
\n that came my way<\/em>
\n this christmas holiday.<\/em>
\nlike on friday, you see,<\/em>
\n someone took pity on me<\/em>
\n shivering cold on the wet driveway<\/em>
\n near the mall carpark level 3.<\/em>
\n she gave me this armani,<\/em>
\n said it was for her daughter<\/em>
\n but she didn’t like the color.<\/em><\/p>\n

then, rummaging on saturday<\/em>
\n among the garbage bin recylables<\/em>
\n down at the market yard,<\/em>
\n i found myself a nice white pair<\/em>
\n of slightly used jogging shoes.<\/em>
\n one even had a shoelace.<\/em>
\nsomewhat ill-fitting, yes.<\/em>
\n but hey, they’re still shoes<\/em>
\n and you know what they say,<\/em>
\n rubber is good for the sole.<\/em><\/p>\n

so there i was yesterday<\/em>
\n proudly wearing my shoes to church<\/em>
\n when this genius buddy from guizhou,<\/em>
\n who lives in a hovel at the metro zoo<\/em>
\n points out that my proud shoes<\/em>
\n are not a real pair, he says.<\/em>
\n both are for left feet, and also,<\/em>
\n one is skechers, the other nike.<\/em>
\n and so it seems hugely<\/em>
\nimproper for me<\/em>
\n to wear them to church.<\/em><\/p>\n

well, mr. jesus, may i just say,<\/em>
\ni never saw you wear skechers<\/em>
\ninside or outside your church either.<\/em>
\n so i gave the left skecher<\/em>
\nto genius friend from guizhou<\/em>
\n and kept the left nike for myself.<\/em>
\n but the church lady said<\/em>
\n wearing just one shoe is ridiculous,<\/em>
\n and i figured barefoot is cool like you.<\/em>
\nso i gave the left nike to my friend<\/em>
\nand the nice lady gave me hot soup,<\/em>
\n a kind followup to the baked\u00a0lasagna<\/em><\/em>
\nleftovers that she gave me last week.<\/em><\/p>\n

so you see, mr. jesus my friend,<\/em>
\n it was a real christmasy weekend.<\/em>
\n full of grace and blessings.<\/em><\/p>\n

and just this morning i, alone<\/em>
\n and cold, shivering wet again<\/em>
\n in the dark early dawn\u00a0fearing<\/em><\/em>
\nthe end of my lucky streak, i saw<\/em>
\na guy drop an unlighted stick<\/em>
\n on the asphalt curb.<\/em>
\n the answer to my wants.<\/em>
\n my first toke in months<\/em>
\n smoke curling up to the sky<\/em>
\n in sacrificial thanks for thy<\/em>
\n miracles that never cease.<\/em><\/p>\n

well, thank you again, i gotta go.<\/em>
\n regards to the missus and the kids.<\/em>
\n i betcha you raised quite a brood<\/em>
\n all over town these past millennia, although<\/em>
\nyou must have sacrificed your freedom<\/em>
\nto make all the bread and fish to feed ’em.<\/em><\/p>\n

mr. jesus, my friend,<\/em>
\n i won’t take up your time now.<\/em>
\n as billions are crying, dying<\/em>
\nfor a minute or two with you<\/em>
\nand your amazing patience as you<\/em>
\n listen to poor people’s problems<\/em>
\n even on your birthday.<\/em>
\n granting it’s december 25.<\/em><\/em><\/p>\n

has it been like this<\/em>
\n for two thousand years?<\/em><\/p>\n

ah, but don’t answer me, my friend.<\/em>
\n i may be a madman but<\/em>
\n we don’t want it said, that<\/em>
\n i talk to voices inside my head.<\/em>
\n###<\/em><\/p>\n

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