God in December

this is where it is, then
sitting under a grey sky in a grey town
in a grey world
in a life so full of color it's almost blinding
watching the frost fight the fog for permanence
washing out the horizon and making it die
from lack of relevance or proximity
it doesn't matter.

channels flip with nothing on
no sound
and a song about december makes me cry
though you can't see it.

up and down the roads
the mountains, clouds
the trees
people wander
like rodents
fluffy-tailed, in a hurry
hoarding their lives
in preparation for something
they've never even thought about.

blank stares and vapid smiles and dried-up rhetoric
no amount of vehemence can revive
but you wear it well
and bought it cheap
so it's all okay in the end.

turn on the radio now, listen
to the fake cheer and the jingle bells
like keys waiting to lock you in
and the fat-faced guard smiling in at you
through the tiny, barred window
saying
looka here now
you ain't never getting out

and looking into the eyes of god
your faith compels you to believe.