Aisle Of Wit

Read More Articles

Twas the Morn Before Christmas

Twas the morn before Christmas, when all through my ‘hood
Not a creature was stirring, ah, the silence was good
The CDs are stacked by our chimney with care
My roommate’s an atheist; there’s no room to spare
His child isn’t here, so I sprung from my bed,
While visions of this post danced in my head;
I had passed out from sobbing while wearing a cap,
It had been nearly six hours since my intended hour nap,
When out on the avenue there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my swivel chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the window, I flew like a flash,
Ripped open the blinds and locked up my stash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen rain
There’s no snow for miles, much to my disdain
When what to my still-groggy eyes should appear,
But a fever dream of a sleigh, and eight tiny cats as reindeer,
With a beautiful driver, hair long and aswirl
I knew in a moment it must be Cover Girl.
More rapid than eagles her coursers they came,
And she whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Tiny! Now, Luna! Now, Spooky And Slick!
On, Baby Boy ! On Prince!  Who the f**k needs St. Nick?!?!?
To the rooftop patio ! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”
As dry leaves that before the mild drizzle they fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and their white liner too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard, clear and raw
The prancing and pawing of each little claw.
As I drew in my hand and was turning around,
Down the chimney Cover Girl came with a bound.
She was dressed with allure  from her head to her foot,
And her clothes were miraculously devoid of any soot;
A bundle of toys she had flung on her back,
And she looked like a star just opening her pack.
Her eyes-how they twinkled! Her smile-oh so pretty!
Her aroma like roses!  I’m feeling less sh*tty!
Her pert little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the light of her eyes was as white as the snow;
The stump of a blunt she held tight in her teeth,
And the smoke it encircled her head like a wreath;
She had a broad face and a flat little belly,
That shook when she laughed (don’t tell them I’m *********).
She was statesque yet petite, an adorable elf,
And I sighed when I saw her, in spite of myself;
A wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work,
She peeled off her stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying her finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney she rose;
She sprang to her sleigh, to her team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
She and her cats were my gift, the stockings a bonus

Now to make her proud; that is my onus;
But I heard her exclaim as they drove out of sight

Happy Christmas To All, And To All A Good-night


Until next time…