This Year's Christmas

from Perfect Sleeping Weather by Larry Fulford

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Scrawled into notebooks from the familiar comforts of temporary homes and the passenger seats of mechanically unsound vehicles adrift on the highways and back roads of America, Perfect Sleeping Weather is fifteen years of thoughts, observations, facts, and fictions hammered into a collection of poetry that, according to one reader, "sounds like a sigh."

In this, his first book, writer/drummer/comedian Larry Fulford reflects on the usual -- life, death, love and leaving -- while still managing to name-check Van Halen. Twice.

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lyrics

Fake snowflakes.
Me at a new job by myself on a Monday.
Nothing to do.
No crimes to commit.
No patrons to patronize
or chase around.
A friend in the Army.
A friend in the church.
A few friends with babies.
A few with wedding rings.

The only real difference between
stores at the mall and homeless people
is that the stores have more money and
the streets are cleaner.
They beg the same.
They drink the same rain.

Life is still
except for what the AC spins.
But there is eye candy,
a girl who works at the Santa photo place.
Santa’s Little Helper.
She entertains kids all day,
drives a remote-control-something around.
Slim, with long, curly, black hair
and probably not quite Forever 21.

And that’s okay.
She’s simply a way to make each day
easier on the eyes.

You have cigarettes,
I have roaming retinas
that suck in and soak up
my environments.

John Lennon’s singing “so, this is Christmas.”

He died 22 years ago yesterday.

Well played, John.