After the American Century
Santa's Calling
It's the week before Christmas but Santa's depressed.
His sack is still empty, he's terribly stressed.
And with global warming now melting the poles
His house and his workshop are afloat in a shoal.
Poor Mrs. Claus suffers light deprivation
And winters in Spain, a six month vacation.
His disgruntled workers are no longer "Elves",
"Vertically Challenged" they now style themselves.
His second-hand pipe smoke has them quite frightened.
And his fur-trimmed red suit is at best "Unenlightened."
Four reindeer escaped, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And affirmative action had made it quite clear
That Santa could no longer have just reindeer.
So instead of Donner and Dancer, Comet and Cupid,
He has three pigs and a moose, and that sure looks stupid!
And the steel runners were removed from his sleigh
Because they cut up the tundra. It was a bad day.
On Christmas Eve some parents called up the cops
When Santa clattered across their solar roof-tops.
Worse yet, he'd lost famous Rudolf, who suddenly chose
To sell Hollywood all the rights to his nose.
That reindeer told Oprah and the entire nation,
He wanted millions in over-due compensation.
And as for gifts, Santa had not a notion
That 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 make lots of noise.
No candy, no sweets...they are bad for the tooth.
No campaign books, for they embellish the truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Are, like Barbie and Ken, better off hidden.
No baseball, no football (the kids might get hurt);
Besides, such sports exposed them to dirt.
Dolls are so sexist, and now are passe;
And online games rot the young brain away.
So Santa just stood there, fed up and perplexed;
He no longer knew what he could do next.
His sack, quite empty, hung limp to the ground;
It seemed no acceptable gifts 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 that means you, too.
What is that gift? A smart phone of great worth,
Distracting us all, it brings peace to the earth.
Who has time for discord, once that 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 stuff, no more cookies to eat,
No red suit to wear or black boots on his feet,
No freezing up North, nor working all year,
He'd no longer feed those ungrateful reindeer.
Santa turned on his Ipad. He'd sell that old sleigh,
And Fed-Ex phones to all, to come Christmas Day.
© 2007 David E. Nye [revised 29-12-22]
