Saturday, December 23, 2017

The Night Before the Night Before Christmas

‘Twas the night before the night before Christmas, when all through my castle,
All of us were asleep, enjoying a break from the hassle.
The hastily wrapped presents were thrown under the tree when done,
And I fervently hoped no one would notice the price tags left on each one.

Two exhausted retrievers were draped awkwardly across two humans in two different beds, 
While visions of UPS drivers danced in their heads.
And, Mama in her Soma silk pajamas, and me in my Hanes underwear, 
Had just settled what was left of our brains, for a night of fitful sleep somewhere.

When from inside my house there arose such a maddening racket,
I felt like I was caught in a scene from Full Metal Jacket.
Away to the hallway, I stumbled like a drunk
Tripping on chew toys, lost in a funk.

There was no moonlight, just the TV glow from Jimmy Fallon,
The only luster on the lawn came from the neighbor’s Christmas Dragon 
When what to my wondering, half closed eyes should appear,
But a giant FEDEX truck and two guys drinking beer!

Nothing I could do to quell the dogs from their barking, 
While outside, two drunken delivery men on my quiet street were parking
A handful of Amazon boxes on my lawn they did scatter,
When I decided to venture out to see what was the matter.

It was then that I discovered the reason for the helter skelter 
As I listened to the tale of our 21st century Santa’s helpers
These elves had been delivering our treasures for thirty six hours without lapse,
How could I then find fault with their copious consumption of Pabst?

Now that this knockoff poem has lost all rhyme and reason,
Perhaps it best that I leave you with a reminder of the season.
The men and women in their trucks, vans and trolleys, 
Charged with delivering our My Pillows, Keurigs, and dollies,
Lift a prayer, and offer a tip, bring hot cocoa and offer a sip.

And after dropping off boxes, he turned with a stagger
He looked at me and his finger did wagger 
Why should I worry about the fate of my liver,
When I still have a hundred more packages to deliver?

And I heard him exclaim to the gathered crowd of yokels,
Merry Christmas to all...and would it kill you to buy local?


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