Twas the night before nothing, when all through the naught

Not no-one was nowhere, with nary a thought;

Tick-tockings were stung by this great laissez-faire,

A past-present-future not here and not there;

The people thus nestled, unplugged and well-fed,

Had visions that bar none danced likewise unsaid;

With rama-lama-ding-dong, and a quick-clap-snap,

We’d all settled down for a long winter’s nap,

When up in my grill there arose such a clatter,

Reality sprang, but we know ‘it’ don’t matter.

Away to the smart phone I flew like a flash,

Tore open my mind and threw in all this trash.

Impugn the distressed. Maintain status quo.

We’ll throw bluster and hearsay at bobsleds below.

Then, what to my wandering mind should appear,

But a party to plan, and a truck full of beer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his cases they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now, Coors Light! Now, Guinness! Now Blue Moon and Hamm's!

On, imports! Hard ciders! Some chugs and some slams!

From a splash of V8! To a cold PBR!

Ablate and stagnate! Belly up to the bar!”

As dry wisps that before all the brain cells die,

When they meet with a warning, deny and defy,

So out of the beer truck the cases they flew,

My party was happening, with St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling. Or maybe ten years.

Or maybe much later. Oh, so many beers.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

St. Nicholas lay there, passed out on the ground.

Still dressed in his fir, from his head to his firt,

His clothes were all tarnished with gravel and dirt;

A big mug o’ beer he had clung in his mitts,

And beside him a gift and a six-pack of Schlitz.

The gift – how It twinkled! The wrapping how merry!

Just waiting to pounce on recipients unwary!

The print on the paper contrasted the bow,

Which was shiny, reflective and white as the snow;

The plump of a ripe pomegranate beneath

A joyous, letter-shaped holiday wreath;

This alphabet print on a bed of mint jelly,

Brought a smile to my face and a burp from my belly.

I picked up the gift, my right jolly old self,

And I laughed when I shook it, in spite of myself;

It jingled and jangled, the letters they tumbled,

They zigged and they zagged, and they all come unjumbled;

The letters they spelled but one sentence for me,

This magical gift on a gift-giving spree,

I handed it off to the next one in line,

And found that their words were different from mine;

The gift was passed back, the print zigged and it zagged,

And when letters settled, I sighed and I sagged,

I shook it again to get them unstuck,

My message still read, beware of beer truck.

Then Santa came to, grabbed a Schlitz, wet his whistle,

Jumped back in his truck, with a wave of dismissal.

I stayed clear but still heard ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."