anti-work christmas carol — scout faller
the butterflies and the sows,
i mean badgers not
pigs,
female badgers are sows just like
pigs are. but anyways,
the butterflies
the fastest ones, fly thirty-seven
miles per hour which is
faster than bison.
bison can run thirty-
five.
there are facts in my
advent calendar and i
pry open the little perforated
cardboard door
and scratch at the foil wrapping
with my nail and get
to the small
(but weighty)
coin of
chocolate in the shape of
a bunny? or bird?
and i crunch on that
drink my morning coffee
and get ready for work
sometimes this happens
around eight-thirty.
other times it’s
four am
advent calendars were built
for poetry: which is to say
consumption
there’s facts and there’s
days and suturing together
the reality of the day, of work
it’s a clean substitution
forget everything you
know
but remember (essential!)
that there are eight thousand
kinds of spider
in the world
these are supposed to,
like the stock photo image
of the leaf heavy with drops
of water,
soothe you. think
of the eight thousand
spiders, or the sows,
or the ducks with
no nerve
endings or blood vessels
in their webbed feet.
(the lack of)
allows them to feel
nothing
in the winter cold
on the last day we
rip out the tiles,
the little doors
the entryways of advent
and spread them out
on the dining room table,
arranging them into an
anti-work cryptography.
if we say it out loud,
it is so. the programme
lies
somewhere in this
fact about squirrels, how
they plant trees
while forgetting where the loot is.
(there are 5k spines
on every hedgehog.
the workday
never ends, just turns
and in turning,
resolves
back into
itself)
probably by
day nine i’ll be all
stupid fucking squirrel
i’m on a mad butterfly-dash
eating and not quite
remembering
where the loot is
__________________
scout is tired, but happy to be here. @a_dumb_broad