callithump

A chilly Sunday in December
you visited from warmer climes.
We set out into Manhattan -
tourists for a day
together.
New York, New York,
what wonders to behold.
In a dystopian twist
of Orwellian proportions
before us - a wild callithump
of drunken Santas
intermingling with
righteous protesters.
One group celebrating
their liberation from convention
by way of costumes and
alcoholic antics.
One group mourning
their disenfranchisement
and an untimely death
brought about by the hands of the state
and we, trapped as in amber twixt the two,
could not help but wonder
at the juxtaposition.