The Xmas Poem

•                              THE XMAS POEM

• 'Twas the night before Xmas, and all through the flat,
• Not a creature was stirring, not even a rat.
• The children were strapped down all snug in their cots,
• The straps tied securely with neat granny knots.
• When up on the roof I heard such a racket,
• I rushed to put on my bullet-proof jacket,
• Picked up my Uzi and sprang up the stairwell
• To sneak up on who had appeared there, but, Hell,
• It was only that Red commie fat elf again
• Who flies every year through the snowfall & rain
• With a Hefty bag full of prime black market loot
• Which he passes out freely to every galoot,
• To slackers and dopers and damned welfare drones,
• To fatties and sickies and old bags-of-bones.
• Distributes for nothing, no payment at all,
• The stuff that's supposed to be bought at the mall!
• It made me so blue I turned white and saw red,
• I just had to pump the old fool full of lead!
• It was my third strike felony rap,
• But I couldn't let him get away with that crap.
• But I didn't know what I was dealing with:
• It turns out, the fact is, you can't kill a myth.
• The bastard's immortal! He's back at his rounds,
• Doling out goodies in cities and towns.
• But I was convicted and sent up for life,
• And to top it all off, now he's balling my wife!