On the 12th day of the Eurocentrically-imposed midwinter festival, my potential-and-wholly-consential-romantic-aquaintence gave to me,
TWELVE males reclaiming their inner warrior through ritual drumming.
ELEVEN pipers piping (plus the 18-member pit orchestra made up of members in good standing of the Musicians Equity Union as called for in their union contract even though they will not be asked to play a note.)
TEN melanin-deprived testosterone-poisoned scions of the patriarchal ruling class system leaping,
NINE persons engaged in rhythmic self-expression,
EIGHT economically disadvantaged female persons stealing milk-products from enslaved Bovine-Americans,
SEVEN endangered swans swimming on federally protected wetlands,
SIX enslaved fowl-Americans producing stolen nonhuman animal products,
FIVE golden symbols of culturally sanctioned enforced domestic incarceration,
(NOTE: after member of the Animal Liberation Front threatened to throw red paint at my computer, the calling birds, French hens and partridge have been reintroduced to their native habitat. To avoid further animal-American enslavement, the remaining gift package has been revised.)
FOUR hours of recorded whale songs,
THREE deconstructionist poets,
TWO Sierra Club calendars printed on recycled processed tree carcasses
and a Spotted Owl activist chained to an old-growth pear tree.
Try to remember the real meaning of Christmas.
