From: Rai A
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Twas The Night Before Solstice

Twas the 
night before solstice and all through the co-op 
Not a creature was messing 
the calm status quo up. 
The children were nestled all snug in their beds, 

Dreaming of lentils and warm whole-grain breads. 

We'd welcomed the 
winter that day after school 
By dancing and drumming and burning the Yule, 

A more meaningful gesture to honor the planet 
Than buying more trinkets 
for Mom or Aunt Janet, 

Or choosing a tree just to murder and stump it 

And deck it all out like a seasonal strumpet. 
My spouse and I, having 
turned down the heat, 
Slipped under the covers for some well-deserved 
sleep,

When from out on the lawn there came such a roar 
I slipped 
from my futon and rolled to the floor. 
I crawled to the window and pulled 
back the latch, 
And muttered, "Aw, where is that Neighborhood Watch?" 


I saw there below through the murk of the night 
A sleigh and eight 
reindeer, challenged of height. 
At the reins of that sleigh sat a 
mean-hearted knave 
Who treated each deer like some personal slave. 


I'd seen him before in some ads for car loans, 
Plus fast food, soft 
drinks and cellular car phones. 
He must have cashed in from these mercantile 
chores, 
Since self-satisfaction just oozed from his pores. 

He called 
each by name, as if 'twere his right 
To treat them like chattel enhancing 
his might: 
"Now Donner, now Blitzen," and other such aliases, 
Showing 
his true Euro-centrical biases. 

With a snap of his fingers away they all 
flew, 
Like Democrats served up brie or tofu. 
Up to the rooftop they 
carried the sleigh 
(The damage to my shingles is there to this day). 


Out bounded the man, who went straight to the flue. 
I knew in an 
instant just what I should do. 
After donning my slippers, downstairs did I 
dash 
To see this trespasser emerge from the ash. 

His clothes were 
all covered with soot, well of course, 
From our wood-fueled alternative 
energy source. 
Through the grime I distinguished the make of his duds-- 

He was trimmed all in fur, fairly dripping with blood!

"We're a 
cruelty-free house!" I proclaimed with such heat 
He was startled and tripped 
on the logs at his feet. 
He stood back up dazed, but with mirth in his eyes. 

It was then that I noticed his unhealthy size. 

He was almost as wide 
as when standing erect, 
A lover of fatty fried foods, I suspect. 
But 
that wasn't all to make sane persons choke: 
In his teeth sat a pipe that was 
belching out smoke! 

I could scarcely believe what had invaded our 
house-- 
This carcinogenic and overweight louse 
Was so red in the face 
from his energy spent, 
I expected a coronary right there and then. 


Behind him he toted a red velvet bag 
Full to exploding with sinister 
swag. 
He asked, "Where is your tree?" with a face somewhat long. 
I said, 
"Out in the yard, which is where it belongs." 

"But where will I put all 
the presents I've brought?" 
I looked at him squarely and said, "Take the 
whole lot

To some frivolous people who think that they need 
To 
succumb to the sickness of commerce and greed, 

Whose only joy comes from 
the act of consuming, 
Thus sending the value of retail stocks booming." 

He blinked and said, "Ho, ho, ho! But you're kidding."
I gave him a stare 
that was stern and forbidding. 

"Surely children need something with 
which to have fun? 
Or it's like childhood's over before it's begun." 
He 
looked in my eyes for some sign of assent, 
But I strengthened my will and 
refused to relent. 

"They have plenty of fun," I cut to the gist, 

"And your mindless distractions have never been missed. 
They take CPR so 
that they can save lives, 
And they go door-to-door on used clothing drives. 


They recycle, renew, reuse and reveal 
For saving the planet's a 
laudable zeal. 
When they padlock themselves to a fence to protest 

Against nuclear power, we think they're the best." 

He said, "But 
they're children--lo, when do they play?" 
I countered, "Is that why you've 
come in your sleigh, 
"To bring joy to the hearts of each child and tot? 

All right, open your bag; let's see what you've got." 

He sheepishly 
did as I'd asked and behold! 
A Malibu Barbie in a skirt of gold. 
"You 
think that my girls will like playing with this, 
An icon of sexist, 
consumerist kitsch? 

With its unnat'ral figure and airheaded grin, 

This trollop makes every girl yearn to be thin, 
And take up fad diets, 
bingeing and purging 
Instead of respecting her own body's urging 

To 
welcome the shape that her body has found 
And rejoice to be lanky, short, 
skinny or round." 
Deep from his satchel he produced up a toy, 
Saying, 
"This is a hit with most every boy." 

And what did he put in my trembling 
hand 
But a gun from the BrainBlaster Power Command! 
"It's a 'hit,' to be 
sure," I sneered in his face, 
"And a plague and a pox on the whole human 
race! 

How 'bout grenades or some working bazookas 
To turn all of our 
kids into half-wit palookas?" 
I seized on his bag just to see for myself 

The filth being spread by this odious elf. 

An Easy-Bake Oven--ah, 
goddess, what perfidy! 
To hoodwink young girls into household captivity! 

Plus an archer play set with shafts that fly out, 
The very thing to put 
a child's eye out. 

And toy metal tractors, steam shovels and cranes 

For destroying woodlands and scarring the plains, 
Plus "games" like 
Monop'ly, Pay Day, Tycoon, 
As if lessons in greed can't start up too soon. 


And even more weapons from BrainBlasters Co., 
Like cannons and 
nun-chucks and ray guns that glow. 
That's all I could find in his red velvet 
sack-- 
Perverseness and mayhem to set us all back. 

"We need none of 
this," I announced in a huff, 
"No 'business-as-usual' holiday stuff. 
"We 
sow in our offspring more virtue than this. 
Your goods are things that 
they'll never miss." 

The big man's expression was a trifle bereaved 

As he shouldered his pack and got ready to leave. 
"I pity the kids who 
grow up around here, 
Who're never permitted to be of good cheer, 

Who 
aren't allowed leisure for leisure's own sake, 
But must fret every 
minute--it makes my heart ache!" 
"Enough histrionics! Don't pity our kids 

If they don't do as Macys or Toys 'R' Us bids. 

They live by their 
principles first and foremost 
And know what's important," to him I did 
boast. 
"Pray, could I meet them?" "Oh no, they're not here. 
By now, 
they're on the roof, liberating your deer!" 

At that Santa sputtered and 
pointed his finger 
But, mad as he was, he had no time to linger. 
He flew 
up the chimney like smoke from a fire, 
And up on the roof I heard voices get 
higher. 

I ran outside the co-op to see him react 
To my children's 
responsible, kindhearted act. 
He chased them away, and disheartened, 
dismayed, 
He rehitched his reindeer (who'd docilely stayed). 

I 
watched with delight as he scooted off then; 
He'd be too embarrassed to come 
back again. 
But with parting disdain, do you know what he said, 
This 
overweight huckster when he took off in his sled?

This reindeer enslaver, 
this exploiter of elves? 
"Happy Solstice to all, but get over 
yourselves!!"


    
     

    
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Sometimes you have to go out on a limb to turn over a new leaf



Don't trust his words, trust his actions.

 



  






      

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