“Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
were empty bottles and butts left around by some louse.
And the best quart I hid by the chimney with care
had been swiped by some bum who had found it there.
My guests had long since been poured into their beds.
To wake in the morning with, gosh awful heads.
My wife, too, was cold, with her chin in her lap.
And me, I was dying for one more nightcap.
When from the lawn, there came such a smell,
I sprang to my feet to see what the hell.
Away to the window, I tore like a flash,
fell over the table and broke a chair with a crash.
The moon on the crest of the newly fallen snow,
made me think of the coal bill and all I did owe.
When what to my wondering eyes did show up,
but eight bloated reindeer hitched to a beer truck.
With a little old driver who looked like a hick,
but I saw it was Santa as tight as a tick.
Like a General Grant tank, those reindeer they came,
and he hiccuped and belched and called them by name.
On Schenley. On Seagram.
We ain’t got all night.
You two four roses and you – black and white,
get up on that roof and get the hell off the wall.
Get going, you dummies; we got a long haul.
Then I pulled in my head and cocked a sharp ear,
down the chimney he came right, smack on his rear.
He was dressed in all fur and had cuffs on his pants,
and the way he did squirm
I guess he had ants.
His droll little mouth made him look a bit wacky,
and the beard on his chin was stained with tobaccy.
He had pints and quarts in the pack on his back,
and a breath that would blow a train off the track.
He was chubby and plump, and he tried to stand right,
but he did not fool me, he was high as a kite.
He spoke not a word but went straight to his work,
and he missed half the stockings, the plastered old jerk.
Then putting five fingers to the end of his nose,
he gave me the bird, and up the chimney, he rose.
He sprang for his truck and slid into the night.
He hollered back as he passed out of sight,
“Merry Christmas, you rum drums. Now have a safe night!”
Happy Holidays!
Lisa DeMarco is a columnist for Villages-News.com.