Advent is Upon Us

Lifted from Homebrewed Christianity

Oh, dear god,
the season I  dread most
has arrived in full force and
I’m not sure I’ll
make it till the Eve,
or even the eve of the Eve, 
without punching someone
in the throat.

Why? Because it’s Advent,
that time of already and not yet,
and the theology nerds
won’t shut up,
prattling on like
nattering nabobs of
negativism, 
sublimely unaware that
people don’t like it when you
shit on their fun.

What, pray tell, is the draw
of this liturgical season? 
I’m told it’s a time of
expectant waiting. 
Waiting for what?
Short days and
shitty weather? 
I think I’ll pass. 
Even Lent, the
bummer before summer,
holds the promise of
a bit of warmth 
after it passes.

Also, I keep hearing that
Advent is a time of
deep reflection.
Seriously? If I reflect deeply
(or even shallowly)
I might have to look
a feeling
in the face.
Who the hell wants to do that?

You people don’t seem
to understand that 
I don’t want to
wait,
or think,
or do
anything with
a lick of 
substance.

What I want is to
eat and drink too much,
sing dreadful ditties like
“Baby, It’s Cold Outside” or
“Santa Buddy”,
and spend money
I don’t have
to distract myself
from the massive hole
in my soul. 

Stop trying to
make me think or
have encounters that hold
any depth whatsoever.
I’m begging you, please,
allow me to sail thru life and
never,
ever,
dig deeper than the 
thin crust of abject materialism
and selfishness that is
the American Way.