It isn't "stuff we ain't getting,"
like rich, or a Lexus --
or no more stinking war.
Or redemption. Folks born pure,
not being sufficiently fecal,
often confuse the end of receiving
with the receiving end.
They have solid faith in tomorrow
always being Christmas,
their birthday, big lottery win,
anyway, the day some gaga gift,
wonderful, shining, already given
to politicians, generals, the elite,
is most certainly headed their way --
like silver spit wads to a velvet ceiling,
golden lint to their best wool sweater.
Clearly they dream too much,
don't feel hopeless enough,
need to spend more time
waiting for the really deep stuff.