Strange things enow in Rockville I trow,
that have taxed near all our reserves,
as with Sister and Kids—
and gluttony and gifts—
today did we X-mas observe.
A delicious feast of the Great Roast Beast
was baked in its own Spitting Suet,
then Piled High on the Table,
though we turned out to be able
to finally eat our way through it.
Piled high? Indeed! Don’t forget the Tree
Noble Fir well worthy of mention
O’er the high pile of toys on which
o'erwhelmed girl and boys
could not keep fixed their attention,
they tried though tired
—and in Torn Wrapping mired —
to play with each as it came
but were saddened each time,
for the next box in line, to stop
playing the previous game.
All day did we strive to keep toe to line
for all of the Dear Little Kinder:
They wanted to eat
while we sat ‘round the tree,
and to open more gifts during dinner.
Ach, the season’s near past (at last, at last!)
and we’ve yet again survived,
‘til next year comes,
when out we’ll all run,
to make the Consumer Economy thrive.
So I hope this Tale of X-mas Travail
hasn’t vex’d your restful post-holiday,
but I had to respond to
your most recent psalm;
again, thank you for all that you say.
Such strange things afoot as make reasoning moot,
like recent news of Mass Layoffs,
and the poor ‘Skins rout,
which will keep them out,
but los Gigantos will be in the playoffs.
Well, I’m babbling now and know not how
from this Verse my poor self to extricate,
and continue despite
knowing how trite
is each further line that I explicate.
Strange things enow in Rockville I trow,
that have taxed near all our reserves,
as with Sister and Kids—
and gluttony and gifts—
today did we X-mas observe.