Twas the Night Before Christmas in Alabama

‘Twas the evening before Christmas

And through the trailer house

Not a varmint was stirring

Not even a louse

The stocking were stapled to the paneling with care

In hopes that ole Santa would get his tush there

The kids were all sleeping still wearing their clothes

While thoughts of electronics their dreams did compose

And momma in her nightgown and I in my briefs

Had just finished fighting just sorting our beefs

When out in the yard I heard such a racket

I grabbed for my gun off the deer hunting bracket

Away to the window near the old septic tank

I flipped up the shade and turned the big crank

The moon on the glow of my Ford pickup truck

Gave me plenty of light for some sitting duck

When what to wondering eyes did appear

But some crazy old man bringing me some deer

With a short little driver, so quick and so funny

I knew right away ‘tweren’t no Easter bunny

Faster than a Harley his twelve points flew down

And he actually named them, that crazy old clown

“C’mon Dasher!  Move it Dancer!  Now Prancer and Vixen!

Get going Comet, Cupid, and Donner and Blitzen!

Get up on the porch and climb up the wall!

I thought, “What a moron, those deer will all fall!”

But sure as dry leaves blow before a hurricane

They jump in the air when they got to the propane

So up on the tin roof those crazy bucks did fly

With a sleigh full of goods that could come from Best Buy

And then in a moment I heard overhead

The scratching of metal that’ll cost some bread

As I gathered myself and was turning about

Through the vent shaft Santa came tearing up grout

He was wearing a fur, from his foot to his head

I knew that PETA would want this man dead

A bag full of toys, he had hanging on his back

He looked like a bum, or someone on crack

His eyes had that twinkle!  His face was all merry!

His nose was all rosy, and his face was all hairy!

His funny little mouth had this silly lookin’ smile

And his beard needed trimming at least once in a while

The stump of a pipe he clenched tight in his lips

He smelled like my grandma, except now she just dips

He had a big head and a big belly too

That shook when he laughed, I thought he’d lost a screw

He was chubby and plump, a right crazy old coot,

And I laughed so hard, it nearly made me poot

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head

Made me kind of nervous, but there was nothing to dread

He never said a thing, but got straight into work

He filled all the stockings, I felt like a jerk

And laying his finger right beside his nose

And giving a nod, out the vent shaft he rose!

He got in his sled, to the deer gave a whistle

And off they flew like a rocketed missile

He yelled, “Merry Christmas!” as his image did dim

I guess he was Santa, glad I didn’t shoot him!  --- P. J. Casselman