T’was the day after Christmas: a knock at my door
Came loudly and suddenly. I, from mid-snore,
Threw open the portal and found with chagrin
A white-bearded fatso all reeking of gin.
“I gave at the office,” I snapped with a frown
While I gave that old wino the quick up-and-down:
He’d presumably gargled his gin, and some beers,
On a bender begun on the night-shift at Sears.
“Good man, don’t you know me?” the poor fellow cried,
“It’s Yuletide and I should be welcome inside!
“Pray, pour me a toddy, an eggnog and more,
“For I’m Father Christmas!” he cried with a roar.
“Then where were you yesterday, buddy?” I sneered,
While the stumble-bum mumbled and pawed at his beard:
“Our stockings hang empty, no fire in the grate,
“And no presents – my ex took the kids out of state;
“They were sobbing that Santa had stiffed them and so,
“The broad took my Buick and off did they go.
“So, if you’re Father Christmas and telling me true,
“Then, Bozo, you’ve got some explaining to do!”
The man staggered past me and slumped in my chair,
And gave me a miserable, woebegone stare
So tragic I poured him a bourbon-and-Coke:
His mittens stopped trembling as finally he spoke,
And I shall remember for many a day
How Saint Nicholas shuddered and said, “TSA.”
For up at the Pole he had loaded his sleigh
As the elves and his Missus cried ‘Up and away!’
While Dasher and Dancer pulled hard as you please,
Some guys dressed in black pulled out guns and cried “Freeze!”
“They handcuffed my reindeer,” he said with no pause,
“Then they donned rubber gloves and they groped Missus Claus,
“Then they de-pantsed an elf, a young fellow named Ray,
“And what they did to Ray I would rather not say,
“But ever since then he has talked in a squeak
“And I doubt the poor chap can sit down in a week.”
“Why?” I demanded. Again I asked, “Why?”
And a tear trickled down from the kindly man’s eye.
He said, “In a manner both callous and crude
“They wanted to photograph us in the nude!
“But they left their machine somewhere else, and then so had
“To manually squeeze every soft bit and gonad
“While probing those parts that my reindeer keep private,
“’Til Donner and Blitzen were ready to riot,
“’Til Comet was ready to vomit and Cupid
“Was roaring to gore them and, equally stupid,
“Dear Rudolph began to short-circuit his beezer
“To send umpteen amps up one uniformed geezer.”
“They stared at my beard and the cap on my head:
“Asked the cops, ‘are you Mozzlem?’” Saint Nicholas said:
“These gifts are for children,” I begged with a smile,
“Then they called me a pervert, a rank paedophile.
“They unloaded the presents straight off of my sleigh
“Then they handcuffed and hooded me, took me away.
“Just where are we going, I wanted to know,
“Afraid that it might have been Guantanamo:
“I got dumped in a Washington dumpster, you see,
“Having only this gin, which I got duty-free.”
So I made instant coffee and gave him a cup
And after a while Old Saint Nick sobered up;
Then I logged onto Skype and the sorry old gnome
Soon spoke to his wife at their cold arctic home:
“Of course I’m not flying back,” Santa Claus said,
“I’m walking! Have you got a hole in your head? “American airspace is something to fear,
“So American kids get no presents next year, “But if TSA calls you, then say I’m upset:
“Merry Christmas to most, but not them and not yet!’”
Books with more TSA humor may be found in The Imaginative Conservative Bookstore.