Noses press against storefront windows

and gawk. We watch stars stuff our sorrow

into glib sayings and sitcom outcomes.

But, in truth,

streets still bustle with beggars,

desperate hands outstretched.

Souls starve on golden calves of

overindulgence.

Ears strain to hear the

clink, clink coin of hope.

Unwrap gods, religion or man,

they disappoint our empty expectations.

We are starving for Christmas.

Christmas arrived. God, in plain garments,

pudgy cheeks and dependent

flesh. God, sucked in the

the first stale breath of humanity and loved us.