Fuck Santa Claus, I Want Some Latkes (Hanukkah Poem for My Family)

An SUV pulls up
there’s a giant menorah on top
five Orthodox Jews get out

they pile into the abandoned bus stop
and pull out cigarettes

they smoke
in their yarmulkes
and probably aren’t talking Torah

it is the third day of Hanukkah

this is the best gift I could get

and the best gift I could give

as Santa Claus farts in the wind

and the snow melts

as families sing songs
about god and struggle and joy

and Atheists order Chinese food
and play internet poker

I say a small silent amen

for you

for chain-smoking Jews

for all eight days

© 2009 Lee Kitzis

Jews vs. Gentiles

I was walking to the blue line
when I saw this group
head bowed in prayer
it was a half-dozen teenagers
and a homeless man
and when they lifted their heads
the homeless man said thank you
and the teenagers blessed him
and walked off smiling
the good lord having blessed one of them
with many back zits
and the rest
with North Face coats
and the homeless man wished them
a happy Easter
and rattled off the names
of any foods he could think of
some of which didn’t even exist
and the kids giggled
and crossed the street
and the sun was shining
even though it was 40 degrees
and the bum ran out of food combinations
and the whole thing was sad
‘til I remembered the piece of pork
stuck in the back of my teeth
and thought of Jesus on the cross
dying for a non-practicing Jew
and some teenagers
and I immediately went home
and flossed
because I’m an Atheist
not an asshole

© 2009 Lee Kitzis

Father's Day Poem

I was watching
a special
on MSNBC
on notorious convicts
and they interviewed
this one
who was convinced
his father was preventing
the second coming of Christ
so he slit his throat
then opened up his head
and ate his brains
all while singing
The Battle Hymn of the Republic
and I don’t condone
slitting your father’s throat
and I certainly don’t condone
eating his brains
but I also
didn’t find him
any weirder
than old ladies
buying pickle barrels
at Sam’s Club
or middle-aged men
in golf caps and short-shorts
beer gut hanging
out of an Ohio State
Rose Bowl
t-shirt
paying 5 dollars
to ride the flight simulator
and as I explain
the directions to him
I’ll think of you
you didn’t fuck up
raising me
other than making me
a Cubs fan
and you’re an Atheist
and neither of us
care about the first coming
let alone the second
so this Father’s Day
you can keep your brains
old man
I’m sure Jesus
would’ve wanted it that way

© 2009 Lee Kitzis

27 Going on 50

I’m 27 years old and I’ve accumulated far too many gray hairs

I’m afraid of everything
women
power lines
flights to Cincinnati
kabuki masks
gentiles
tornadoes
centipedes
bicyclists
police sketches
spinach
the elderly

I tried Buddhism
but couldn’t breathe right

I overanalyze my relaxation tapes

I don’t trust my bank

or anybody in rush-hour

I mix my salads with scotch
and my tacos with tea

27 going on 50

and I haven’t even lived like Bukowski

just a Jew
whose grandfather took him to a Baptist-Evangelist church
at age 9
and confused the shit out of him

and now he’s an Atheist

at 27 going on 50

looking back at 9
and forward to a good drink

to forget it all

© 2008 Lee Kitzis

I Found Religion in a Roller Derby Girl

It’s Sunday morning
the sunlight
bathing the Phoenix wing tattoos
on your back
and your punk rock cat
w/ the studded collar
and the toe fetish
purring at my feet

Hung-over
w/ a stomach full of
Trader Joe’s cheese
and wine-in-a-box

and you with the jimmy legs
hogging the covers
while the pope’s
getting ready for bed

We’re just a couple of Atheists
and the only thing waking us up
is the baseball scores
on the clock radio

One week ago
we were drinking Pabst pints
at Healy’s
listing our broken dreams

You told me
you wanted to be
the first ballerina to dance
on the moon

I said I did too
and knew
the joys of morning-after sex
during the service
when the choir
hits the high note
and you dig your nails
into my back

and then
the service is over

and the concluding prayer

and the pope’s praying before bed

but I got what I want
in the devil on your stomach
on Sunday morning
and the sunlight bathing
the Phoenix wing tattoos
on your back

© 2008 Lee Kitzis