Two Days Before Kwanzaa… A Christmas Poem
'Twas
two nights before Kwanzaa, and down in the trap
The
cook house was jumping, that’s real shit no cap
The
shotgun was set by the bedside with care
In
case somebody thought I might be scared
The
children were nestled all snug in their beds
While
daddy was bugging mom, for just a little head
Mom
in her bonnet and dad his durag
Won’t
mess up your hair, we got this in the bag
Out
on the driveway arose such a clatter,
I
grabbed the twelve gauge to see what was the matter
Away
to the window like Malcolm I posed
Careful,
prepared to put lead in these thieving hoes
The
moon started to shine on the still-falling snow
Gave
a shine to just like daylight on everything below
When
what the fuck to my eyes appear?
But
a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer
With
a little old driver so lively and quick
I
knew in a moment he must be St. Nick.
Faster
than my pitbulls, how quickly they came they came
And
then he whistled, and shouted, and shouted their names
"Now, Henny! now, Dusse! now Ciroc and some mead!
On, Cuervo! on, Crown! and on pills and some weed!
To
the top of the stoop, to the top of the wall!
Now
dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As
leaves that before the police cruisers fly
When
they meet with a suspect, we know ‘bout to die
So
up to the rooftop the reindeer they flew
With
the sleigh full of toys, and the big fatman too
And
then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The
dancing and stomping of each fucking hoof.
As
I drew my pistol, and was turning around
Down
the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He
was dressed all in fur, from his head down his back
And
his clothes were all fly, like some new shit from Sak’s
A
bundle of goods he had over his back,
And
he looked like a booster trying to make a quick stack
His
eyes—how they twinkled! his dimples, how merry!
His
cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His
droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And
the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The
stump of a pipe he held tight in his hand
“This
better not be a meth head, I’mma kill this man”
He
had a broad face and a little round belly
That
shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He
was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
“He’s
too fat, he can’t be on that meth”
A
wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon
gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He
spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And
filled all the stockings; then left like a jerk,
And
turning to leave, he soon came alive
And
me, I’m like “Santa… The new PS5?
He
left for his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle
And
away they all flew they were out like a missile
I
heard something yell, when they were out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
Comments