Brian Dan Christensen

Brian Dan Christensen is a writer and translator.

Homepage: https://briandanchristensen.wordpress.com

As The World Kept Falling Apart

As the world kept falling apart
And I had no words of solace to offer
I went to buy roses for my lady

I passed houses being demolished
Houses being built
I crossed bridges of steel
Rivers of ice

And while it was cold
And hostility hung in the air
Like a breath withheld

The bouquet resting in my arms
Turned into a shield of humanity
And then back into roses

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Another Old Christmas (Howard Walker’s Christmas Song)

I’d be such as terrific guest at your house
You don’t have to comb your hair
I’d bring a quart of Old Crow, chocolate for your kids
I’d even bring my own folding chair
And I’d sit by your table, no, I won’t stare at you
That tree sure is decked out in style
And if I don’t make it this time around
I might be there in a while.

I’d be such as terrific guest at your house
Say, who painted that painting over there?
I like what your husband did to the floors
Oh, that fire burns so warm and clear
The smell in this kitchen brings back memories
The apron my mother used to wear
Well, if I’m not there before darkness falls
I might have gotten hung up somewhere.

I’d be such a terrific guest at your house
My cousin has this old Chevrolet
That dress looks exactly the same on you
As it did at Half Moon Bay
No, I didn’t get your letter, no, Jack passed away
I see they’re building a new road through town
The shadows are long, we might see some snow
But you might not see me around.

I’d be such as terrific guest at your house
This Christmas I’ll bring you a book
And sit by the piano and hum a few tunes
If I cry, pretend not to look
Well, here comes the jailer, it’s time for lights out
I‘ll finish this letter some time soon
It’s another old Christmas for me without you
But at midnight, let’s both look at the moon.

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Hobo’s Lullaby

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Thanksgiving Limerick

The Europeans followed Hernán Cortés
And made a new world of freedom and show biz
Oh, that sweet American thing
Where thanks we give and bring
And remind turkeys of La Révolution Française

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Umbrella

Umbrella

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Three Limericks

There was a man who never said Oops
They called him Putin the Russ
He ordered Quiche Lorraine
Then said to Ukraine
Move your border away from our troops

There was a man, Putin of Leningrad
Who read a newspaper want ad
He became maître d’
At The Cagey Bee
Serving Pie in the sky a la Vlad

There was a man named Vladimir
A cutting-edge buccaneer
With his new Putin app
He’d take a face or map
And make the lines disappear

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Rockaway

I was swimming the other day
Along the coast of the Rockaway Peninsula
When a flock of hundreds of birds
Came in low out of nowhere
Eyes dark and determined

And then I thought of François Mitterrand
How he served thirty Ortolan buntings
For one of his last meals, how they are
Caught alive, blinded, force-fed and drowned in Armagnac
So as to be killed and marinated in one fell swoop

I have never been this close to so many birds
See how they dare make themselves available
In the silvery, silent end of season
So majestic and yet so at hand
The significance if which, I have decided,

Is more than just this

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