Tuesday, December 25, 2007

'Twas the day after Christmas
by David Hurtado

'Twas the day after Christmas, when all through the country
Children were playing with new toys a plenty.
The presents all opened, the wrapping all shreddy,
I set about clearing post-Christmas confetti.

The ornaments, bubble lights, nativity scene,
The garlands, the wreaths, our fake Christmas tree,
And the stockings I carelessly tossed into storage
mingled with all sorts of cheap plastic whorage.

I bagged all the paper, the tinsel, the trap
The gift bags, the boxes I crammed in a sack
And dragged all the trash to the end of the drive way
For the big garbage truck to pick up the next day

When, what to my wondering eyes should be popping,
But a black limousine, at my curbside a-stopping.
The driver quick-opened the passenger door
And out stepped a man little children adore.

He wore no red coat, no white furry trimming
He was chubby and plump, but his Armani was slimming
Yet I knew from his chuckle and twinkling eye
It was good old Saint Nick, no doubt in my mind

"To what do I owe this great honor old friend?"
I said with a question mark placed at the end.
"Just came to find out how you liked all the gifts
It's a pain in the neck, but Marketing insists.

"Focus groups and surveys can only do so much
They tell me good marketing takes a personal touch.
It seems like a chore, but it's money well spent
Our profits are up thirteen hundred percent."

I stared at my shoes, unsure how to say it
Afraid to discuss it, I tried to delay it
But most of the toys broke right out of the box. . .
Lead paint, choking hazards, electrical shocks. . .

I crafted a carefully worded reply
A compliment masking a jab on the sly
"Christmas was great as it always has been
The best gifts, you know, well. . . they come from within

"So what does it matter if toys are unsafe,
If they're made by small children for minimum wage?
There's more where they came from on Wal-Marts toy shelves
And with prices so low, who cares about elves?"

He sprang to his Limo, to his driver he nodded
Then speeding away, from the window he shouted,
"What's it to you Bud? Don't be such a whiner,
The elves joined a union, I outsourced to China"

7 comments:

The Petts said...

Whorage? :}

AzĂșcar said...

Very, very clever.

Nigel said...

Good one. The decorations come down right away, huh? There's such a long build-up to Christmas and yet it ends so abruptly. I'm leaving the decorations up 'til Jan.1st.
p.s. Part of me wondered if Frankie would be in the limo.

The Scooter Lounge said...

I'm not really that scroogey. Our decorations are still up. I actually started the poem on Christmas eve after we put out all the gifts for the kids. I just thought it would be fun to parody the famous poem. I knew how I wanted it to end, and I just let the rhyme dictate the story.

Nigel said...

I've been reading the archived blogs and laughing a LOT. There are the profound and poignant moments, but my new happy place is imagining that Venezuelan woman talking about her "bar-china".

The Scooter Lounge said...

The "bar-china" conversation was surreal. It's too bad I can't write about some of the crazies closer to home. There's some serious "bar-china"s in my extended family.

Lois said...

Loved the poem. Too funny.