‘Twas the night before the twenty-fifth.

For those who missed this last year….

Ragged Good Looks

Instead of presenting tonight an excerpt of fiction this week, I present to you a narrative poem I wrote in celebration of the season. Yes, I know that it technically would have been more appropriate for tomorrow, but I just couldn’t wait.

‘Twas the night before the twenty-fifth and all through my home
Not a creature was stirring while I stroked my bone.
The presents were wrapped with ribbon and bow
In hopes that the holiday would just come and go.

The tenants downstairs had all gone to sleep,
While I cleaned myself up and tried not to peep.
I blew my nose in my kerchief, and put on clean shorts
Then turned on the T.V. for a marathon of sorts

When up on the roof there came such a ruckus,
A loud thump and then, “Oy, my poor tuckus!
“Hey, there’s no chimney, that son-of-a-whore
“I guess I’ll have…

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