407. Christmas Poem

’Twas the night before Christmas, and there in a heap

Lay my typewriter monkeys, unkempt and asleep.

At long last, thank the Lord, they had started to snooze.

They lay chattering faintly and smelling of booze.

And so I, much relieved, at my desk sat to write

On that bright, peaceful, glorious, holy, cold night.

When the silence was broken—a sharp, noisy tap!

On the door some odd stranger had started to rap.

I expected that raven, but there stood a man

With a snappy red sport coat, a neat beard, a tan,

And a trim, slim physique! His thin figure was slick,

But was this dapper fellow the ancient Saint Nick?

“Santa Claus? But you can’t be,” I wondered aloud.

“I am trying to fit with today’s younger crowd,”

Said the man. “Would you tell me now, if you will, please,

If it’s you who look after twelve naughty monkeys.”

“I’m the one,” I admitted. “I’m sorry,” said he.

“They have earned tons of coal. I won’t bring it, you see,

For they start many fires, and black coal is a fuel!

Such a flammable gift would be foolish and cruel.”

“Then what did you bring them?” I inquired, quite depressed.

“I brought twelve fire extinguishers—seemed like the best

Of replacements for something as risky as coal.”

And with that, he set twelve presents down. “Bless my soul!”

He exclaimed. “And I almost forgot! Here for you,

A small box! My dear boy, there’s a gift for you, too.”

And with that, old Saint Nick snapped his fingers and rose.

No more reindeer for him, but a jet. “There he goes,”

I declared as the jet roared away in the night.

To my desk I went, then, and flipped on a soft light.

What nice gift in my box had the kindly elf hid?

A brand-new coffee cup, and a note: “Good luck, kid.”

Do you know what gift would be even better than a fire extinguisher? A donation to Operation Yuletide, of course! We’re raising money to help people this Christmas. There are even rewards and stuff! (As an added perk, Santa Claus* will put donors on his Nice list.) Check it out here!

*Santa Claus does not exist. Any and all claims involving Santa Claus are intended jokes, and thus legally nonbinding. Please do not sue me, my family, or my cat.

2 thoughts on “407. Christmas Poem

  1. What’s with the disclaimer at the bottom? Seems unnecessary and a little grinchy. I’m sure those fire-starting monkeys are as legitimately real as good old Santa, after all. 😉

    We must be careful, always and mostly, about making claims to the lack of existence of anything someone else believes in. What is true to us can easily not be true to them, and vice versa. The Universe is a fascinating and complex place. 🙂

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