This is a new and improved version of an old classic…dedicated to Le Clown. Le Clown, your wit always makes me giggle and cheers me up. Thank you for what you bring to my world! Hugs, ~Rainey
Twas the night before Christmas and all through Le town
not a Carnie was resting not even Le Clown.
Credit cards were flying from wallets without care
the bills would soon follow buyer’s remorse beware.
Le Children were frolicking and bouncing in beds
with visions of skateboards and dollies in their heads
and Ringmistress in her leathers, and I in my chains
had just started whipping and playing fun games.
When out on the snow there came a great sound
I sprang off Ringmistress to see who was around
away to the igloo window my chains I drug
Tore open the window and stuttered out, “DUH?”
The moon on the breast of magnificent Ringmistress
made me stop stupid, and I almost missed it
When, what to my wondering eyes should I see
but a tiny bobsled pulled by six snarling snow bees.
With a little old driver, so decrepit and slow
I knew it twas David Dixon, drunk and on the go!
Much slower than turtles his bees they came
and he yelled, “I can’t whistle and I don’t care your fucking names!”
“Just move, damn you! Get your asses in gear!
I’ve got a shit load of stuff to gather this year!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall
Just fly your ass over and don’t let me fall!”
Then in an hour I heard over my head
the buzzing of bees and David as he said,
“Get the fuck out the way” as I turned around
down the chimney came David as he fell on Le Clown.
He was dressed all in flannel, from his toe to his hat
His clothes were filthy with bat shit and all that
A bundle of junk he had flung on his back
and he looked like a bum just waiting to attack.
His eyes, how they glowed! So drunk, he called me Mary!
His cheeks were like roses, flushed from drinking the sherry!
His fat little mouth was drawn up in a snarl
and his crumb-filled beard was matted and gnarled.
The stump of a blunt he held tight in yellow teeth
and the smoke surrounded us and I got high on the reef
He had a big head and an expansively big gut
that shook when he coughed and called me a slut.
He was scary and mean, a menacing mad man
and I pissed my pants as I gazed up at him
A wink of his eye and his creepy old grin
made me cringe in fear as I pissed myself again,
He spoke not a word, but got right to work
He stole my electronics and called me a jerk
And sticking his middle finger beside of his nose
to hell he bid me as up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his bobsled to the bees he did yell,
“It’s time to get going all the way back to hell!”
And I heard him bellow as he drove out of sight,
“Happy fucking Christmas and to all a good night!”
This poem is a work of fiction. It must not be viewed as the truth. Unless it is the truth. Then it can be nonfiction.