Apologies to the Bard
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When business grapples humans by the throat.
When holy days, unceasing, bind our souls
To flagrant commerce based on anecdotes.
Why does a tale of helpful Indians
Create a four-day lapse in useful work,
Create a massive airline traffic jam,
Allow us to engorge as if berserk?
Then Kwanzaa, Christmas, Chanukah appear—
Emerge from mythic origins. Merchants
Wallow in divine nonsense, hold sales, cheer!
And wallets gasp at made up reverence.
Just as old age devours spirit, health,
So does this absurd season swallow wealth.
(11/26/13)