Poem by Joseph S. Pete


 

‘Twas the Endless Christmas Season

‘Twas the October before Christmas, when all through the earth
Halloween had not happened, yet there was no dearth
Of stockings and ornaments and Xmas decorations galore
In hopes that St. Nicholas would bring more, more, more.

The consumers were nestled all snug in their beds,
With visions of credit card balances deep in the red.
Halloween was weeks off, but no one cared about gore.
Retailers all knew it was Christmas that would pack store after store.

When out on the television there arose such a clatter.
A shouting neanderthal claimed he knew what was the matter.
The phrase “Merry Christmas” had vanished in a flash.
.People now said “Happy Holidays,” values were under attack.

The bile was like car exhaust blackening pure-driven snow.
Seriously, there were Christmas trees everywhere, all above and below!
When, what to our incredulous ears should appear,
But a million stations playing nothing but Christmas music for half the year.

With every house’s Xmas lights shining, the pundit was either blind or not bright.
But he lied and prevaricated with all his might.
Some bought into his white fur-trimmed bag of babbling bullshit,
Even though you could see Santa or a manger from anywhere you would sit.

“Now privates! Now soldiers! Now sergeants! Now troops!
Onto the front lines, there’s no low to which they won’t stoop!
To the Starbucks! To the courts of the mall!
There’s a war on Christmas! And we must kill them all!”

“It’s what Jesus would have wanted, what Santa would have done.
When they met with an obstacle, they faced it down with a gun.
You may claim my martial rhetoric is overheated or insane.
You may pray St. Nicholas’s sleigh will bring me a brain.”

The pundit waged war against Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Thanksgiving, New Year’s Eve.
That there were in fact other holidays he could not conceive.
Like a Santa-capped Quixote, he battled imaginary slights,
While a soundtrack of Jingle Bells played all day and all night.

 

Joseph S. Peteis an award-winning journalist, an Iraq War veteran, an Indiana University graduate, a book reviewer, and a frequent guest on Lakeshore Public Radio. He is a 2017 Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee who was named the poet laureate of Chicago BaconFest 2016, a feat that Geoffrey Chaucer chump never accomplished. His literary work and photography have appeared or are forthcoming in Stoneboat, The High Window, Synesthesia Literary Journal, Steep Street Journal, Beautiful Losers, New Pop Lit, The Grief Diaries, Gravel, The Perch Magazine, Rising Phoenix Review, Chicago Literati, Dogzplot, Bull Men’s Fiction, shufPoetry, The Roaring Muse, Prairie Winds, Blue Collar Review, Lumpen, The Rat’s Ass Review, The Tipton Poetry Journal, Euphemism, Jenny Magazine, Vending Machine Press and elsewhere. He once wrote an author bio that just trailed off…

TJ Edson is the Art Director of Oddball Magazine.

 

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