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Bah-ha-ha Humbug November 24, 2011

Posted by The Typist in Humor, Poetry, Toulouse Street, Xmas, Yule.
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Looks like McVisamas is safe for another thanks to the weather gods. Still:

A Blisterous Carol

The damn rains’ irregular
splattoo on the window unit,
this plucked turkey sweltering
in Gulf Coast November—
One more day past 80
& that’s it: I’m
cancelling Christmas.
Let those poor Scotch fir
& all those blue spruce
rest just this one winter.
Let the chestnuts
scatter their progeny
on the ground,
make a holiday banquet
for some poor squirrel.
Roasting: forbidden.
One more jingle bell &
all holly jolly hell
may break loose.
I’ll bing your crosby
with a crowbar & then:
Oh, silent night!

Why spin up the light bill
with all those plastic icicles?
(Oh, coal in your stockings,
you ho-ho global warmers!)
Lay back & flail your arms
& make lawn angels
in the St. Augustine.
Admire the night lights.
Find one special star.
Give it to someone you love.
No you don’t need a bow.
No wrapping paper, either.
Remember all those trees
mowed down in their thickets
like Pickett’s confederates
to litter your carpet?
(op. cit. up top, you nitwit)

Peace on earth: yes. Good will
toward forests. For an angel came
to Santa at the mall &
stole his camera & hat.
He was so damned happy
to lose that nylon beard
he ripped off all that rented red
& in his sweaty drawers went &
tossed the loopy Muzak box
in the Chik-Fil-A fryer, then
smashed all the cash registers &
everyone got lots of presents.
Except the Visa MasterCard bankers
(those Ebenezer bastards)
& we’ve all seen that movie.
so many times we’re likely
to put our own eyes out.
I’m off to the liquor store.
Call me when it’s New Year’s.
We’ll deal out a holiday bender
to beat anybody’s three kings,
flush with holiday spirits
straight through to Twelfth Night.

Then, well, Carnival.

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