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Black Lamb


Now in its 14th year of publication, this magazine was created to offer the discerning reader a stimulating selection of excellent original writing. Black Lamb Review is a literate rather than a literary publication. Regular columns by writers in a variety of geographic locations and vocations are supplemented by features, reviews, articles on books and authors, and a selection of “departments,” including an acerbic advice column and a lamb recipe.


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All I want for Christmas

December 1st, 2004


All I want for Christmas is…

• For my Mom to wake up in the ICU and ask everybody why they’ve been yelling “Wake up!” in her ear for seven weeks.

• Every dam on the Missouri River destroyed.

• A driveway fifty miles long, like Ted Turner’s in Montana.

• For the seventy roosters next door to peck the eyes out of the redneck that uses them for cock-fighting.

• For the weariness and fear to leave my father’s eyes.

• To “Imagine” that indeed there is “no hell below us.” And above us? Above us only pie, my mom’s blueberry pie.

• For the eighteen-year-old Mexican girl with a space between her teeth to quit crawling on all fours through my dreams.

• For the doctor at the Augusta Hospital who made that tragic mistake to admit it, which will help take the fear and worry from my father’s eyes.

• For Bush, Cheney, and Rove to be served on a silver platter at the front lines in Fallujah.

• A bowl of green chile from the Wolf Tongue Café in Nederland, Colorado.

• For the Bush, Cheney, and Rove daughters to serve on the front lines in Fallujah.

• A Sunday Night Super Throwdown Extravaganza Wrestle Off, where all the squabbling religions of the world settle once and for all who’s the best, and then retire and let the rest of us pray in peace.

• Muhammad Ali without Parkinson’s.

• The return of the passenger pidgeon, and a subsequent apology.

• An end to the awful poverty on Pine Ridge.

• O.J. Simpson behind bars.

• All of the cell phones of the world to simultaneously combust.

• A cure for cancer.

• For scientists to quit trying to explain the northern lights, and just accept the long-held belief of the Innuit: that they are the playful souls of children on their way to heaven.

• Lower back pain to be abolished from the land.

• For all of the televangelists in the world to simultaneously combust.

• A cure for my mom.

• A strawberry house with a chocolate door, popsicle windows, a butterscotch floor, six painted ponies for dining room chairs, a real live jolly old cinammon bear — this for Liz, the nurse who has become our patron saint at the hospital.

• A package of underwear and some t-shirts under the tree. From my mom.

• For Cracker Jacks to quit fearing lawsuits and go back to putting some godamn decent prizes inside. Plus, more peanuts at the bottom.

• The end of the Age of Cynicism.

• The return of the troubadours.

• For the terrible thought to leave my head that if my mother should die, it will be without my ever having asked her what her favorite color is.

• Wendell Berry for President.

• More stories that end “and they lived happily ever after…” •

Posted by: The Editors
Category: All Christmas Issue, Ryder | Link to this Entry


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