'Twas the week before Christmas and Santa's a wreck.
His sack was still empty, for what's politically correct?
His disgruntled workers were no longer "Elves",
"Vertically Challenged" they now styled themselves.
His second-hand pipe smoke made them quite frightened.
And his fur-trimmed red suit was at best "Unenlightened."
Plus, global warming was melting North Pole
Drowning his workshop and house in a shoal.
Poor Mrs. Claus, had light deprivation,
And wintered in Spain, a six month vacation.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And affirmative action had made it quite clear
That Santa no longer could have just reindeer.
So instead of Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
He had three pigs and a moose, and that sure looked stupid!
Then he'd lost flashing Rudolf. Santa's heart nearly froze
When a network bought all the rights to his nose.
That reindeer told Oprah and the entire nation,
He wanted millions in over-due compensation.
Worse still, people had started to call up the cops
If his team clattered on their solar roof-tops.
And then the steel runners were banned from the sleigh
Because they cut up the tundra. What a sad day!
And as for gifts, why, he'd not had a notion
That giving presents could cause such a commotion.
Nothing of leather, and nothing of fur,
Nothing gendered for him, nor sexy for her.
No arrows to aim, and no guns to shoot.
No motors, no sprays, for they do pollute
No pink for the girls, or blue for the boys.
No dangerous fireworks that made lots of noise.
No candy, no sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
No campaign books, for they embellish the truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were, like Barbie and Ken, better off hidden.
No baseball, no football (the kids might get hurt);
Besides, rough sports exposed them to dirt.
Dolls were all sexist, and now were passe;
And games would rot a young brain away.
So Santa just stood there, fed up and perplexed;
He no longer knew what he could do next.
He tried to be merry, he tried to be gay,
But he had to be careful with that word today.
His sack, quite empty, hung limp to the ground;
No acceptable gift, it seemed, could be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that one might
Give to all on the Left, or to all on the Right.
A gift for the Red States, a gift for the Blue,
A gift for the entire political zoo.
A gift that none would feel was taboo
For Christian, Jew, Moslem, Buddhist, Hindu
Every ethnicity, all possible hues,
Everyone, everywhere, and surely, you too.
What is that gift? A smart phone beyond worth,
By distracting us all, it brings peace to the earth.
Who has time for discord, once the screen's lit?
Why go into the street, if you can just sit?
Santa saw in a flash that his freedom had come.
He shouted, he danced, he forgot he'd been glum.
Never again would he race the world round,
Nor respond to kids' letters from each little town,
No more presents to haul, nor chimneys to down,
No more stockings to fill, no more cookies to eat,
No red suit to wear or fat boots on his feet,
No freezing up North, nor working all year,
He'd no longer feed those ungrateful reindeer.
Santa turned on his phone. He'd sell that old sleigh,
And mail-order those phones, to come Christmas Day.
© 2007 David E. Nye [revised 21-12-07]