Why Do I Keep Writing Poems, Anyway?

I was at a party the other day
full of really nice Jewish people.
I thought it was going to be a
Christmas party. But when I
got there with my ten dollar
bottle of wine I couldn't help
but notice the menorah and the
kid in the corner playing with
the dradle. This guy brought

a guitar, though, and ruined
everything by making us listen
to a few of his songs. He seemed
like a nice guy. But it's never
a good sign when someone prefaces
his stuff by asking, "Does anyone
want to hear a song about Jesus?"

I made a crack about Jesus and songwriting
that made Ginger fly across the room.

Kind of a sin now that I
think about it--
that I had a chair while Ginger had
nothing but the floor.

What was Jim doing sitting there in the E-Z chair, anyway?
That's how you can tell
a couple has left their
honeymoon period:
the guy has no qualms taking the chair.

Jesus never had to deal with these kinds of nuances.
All he had to do was die on a cross.
Not sit at the foot of it
listening to all that mess and groaning.