The Night After Christmas

’Twas the night after Christmas, and all through the house

Every creature was sleeping, including my spouse.

The presents were strewn by the chimney with glee,

Some cat had un-tinseled our once-mighty tree.

The children--twin sisters and one little brother--

Were finally done screaming and kicking each other,

And Mama and I were passed out after dinner

In candy-stripe nightshirts to make us look thinner.

When down from the den came a thud and a crash--

Away to the staircase I flew like The Flash!

I tiptoed downstairs and I tripped on old Rover;

“Some watchdog,” I muttered--he barely turned over!

I crept through the house with my smart-phone flashlight,

To see what had broken and what was alright.

The glow of the phone cast an unearthly hue,

Like a gh-gh-gh-ghost on an old “Scooby-Doo.”

I paused in the kitchen, I counted to ten,

Then rounded the corner and stepped in the den.

And there, by the tree, looking pleased with himself,

Was an overgrown, button-down, corporate elf.

He had a briefcase and a green velvet blazer,

And in his right hand was a code-scanning laser.

He was trim and well-tailored--not one ounce of fatness--

With a shiny gold name tag that simply said “Atnas.”

I spoke not a word, but slipped down to a crouch

And hid in the shadows behind the blue couch.

Then I watched as this “Atnas” picked up my new sweater.

He scanned it and “Zap!”  It was one I liked better!

And then, right before my still-wondering eyes,

He zapped the girls’ boots the appropriate size!

He grabbed Junior’s unopened video game

And zapped it to one that’s a little less lame.

That “new” Harry Potter?  They already read it.

He zapped it away to a place called “store credit.”

He sped through the room like a madman deranged

Making sure each new present was promptly exchanged.

Out snowglobe!  Out perfume!  Out scarf and out sash!

Now gift cards!  Now gas cards!  Now big stack of cash!

And then, to my rapture, he did the best thing!

He found this plush reindeer that just loves to sing--

It lights up and shrieks all through “O Holy Night,”--

And, wonder of wonders, it vanished from sight.

And “Atnas” left nothing to take its dear place--

Just silence and calm and a smile on my face.

Then seeing his work was officially through,

And scanning his face, up the chimney he flew.

But I heard him cry out the best greetings of all--

“Ho ho ho, I just saved you a trip to the mall!”

Ozzie the Elf

Way up at the Workshop, the one at the pole,

Where Santa holds limitless power,

There’s a vital employee--a wee little soul

Who works to the very last hour.

He doesn’t feed reindeer, he doesn’t make toys,

He doesn’t just spy from a shelf.

He points-clicks-and-ships all your last-minute Joys--

He’s Ozzie, the Online Store Elf.

In this day and age, Santa’s picked up the pace

And upgraded the whole operation.

A visit to shop.northpole lets you place

Countless orders to ship to each nation.

And who mans the laptop?  And who checks the stock?

And who does it all by himself?

Who tracks all the shipments real-time round-the-clock?

It’s Ozzie, the Online Store Elf!

The little-known savior of each Christmas Eve,

He’s got lots of guts, but no glory.

It’s Santa who gets all the kids to believe,

But Ozzie who checks inventory!

His candy-cane cubicle’s always aglow 

With light from his forty-two screens.

His team of twin servers-- On “Crasher!” On “Slow!”--

Are Santa’s most vital machines.

While Christmas Eve merriment greets other elves,

The online store just keeps on going.

Those pretty brown boxes won’t label themselves!

It’s Ozzie who keeps the flow flowing!

So let’s honor Ozzie with no more forgettings.

Let’s offer our hero a treat.

Just click “Accept Cookies” in your browser settings,

And send that elf something to eat!

Looks Right To Me!

I have an idea that I’m trying to prove,

A simple idea that I hope you will love.

I’m writing a poem to boggle your senses,

To addle your noggin and fog up your lenses,

Where nothing makes sense as you think that it ought,

Where logical thought’s at a bit of a drought.

And so, if you listen, I’m hoping you’ll hear

The most nonsensey story that any can bear:

There once was a bison who lived in a prison--

He held a man hostage to pay for his postage.

But when he’d served seven and justice was even,

He fed a gorilla a yummy tortilla.

And then that old primate moved to a nice climate--

To warm southern nations with plentiful rations

Of comfortable clothing.  He chose to wear nothing.

He just took a flower and taped it on lower.

But this underwear was so nonlinear

That the flower’s fresh pollen made him get all swollen.

His mouth formed an oval, which showed disapproval.

He said a bad word, then he took up a sword,

And he gave a small cough, then he took cookie dough,

And he made a big boot, which he wore on his foot,

And he stomped all through nature, which wasn’t so mature.

Until a big wolf challenged him to play golf.

He was not afraid, so he dressed all in plaid,

And played a good match, ’til they met a Sasquatch.

They said “adios,” then they played radios

’Til they’d both had enough, now my poem is through.

And so there you have it, it’s nonsense galore,

As normal as pumpkin-spice-fish-cacciatore.

And though it makes sense like a truck on the ocean,

At least all the rhymes are so perfect and clean!

It's All In My Head

My throat is raw, my nose is numb,

My eyes are red like fire. 

The grinding gears inside my ears

Ring like a demon choir. 

I'm clogged completely, through and through,

Yet leaking all the same. 

My forceful wheezes, hacks, and sneezes

Make typhoons seem tame. 

The pounding of my sinuses

Is like the ocean's roar. 

My neck complains with pains and strains

To choke a dinosaur. 

I hold my head, and in my bed

I know I should have stayed. 

Next year I'll skip the 

"Festival of Allergens Parade!"