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'Twas the Day After Christmas
a poem for the season, by one I.P. Freleigh. Ahem.....
'Twas the Morning After Christmas and all through the store
The employees were barely stirring, they had to come in at 4
In the back, three carts of returns, I had heard
They'd been sitting back there since December 23rd
All the folks not in retail were snug in their beds
Visions of sugar plums, 75% off, danced in their heads
The clerks and the cashiers manned their battle stations
Coffee's your friend when you're in for the duration
The day started slowly, I took my first break
My sanity was shredded, my head started to ache
And then, around 10, as one they awakened
Seduced by cheap bargains like Irving to bacon
They reached in a wallet or pocket or purse
And raced back to seasonal, they all had to be first
To buy lotion gift sets and half-off decorations
To take the edge off their yuletide frustration
The lines at the checkouts soon grew to twenty deep
And unwanted items piled up in a heap
"Price check! Carryout! Get carts right away!"
The cashiers' calls boomed over the PA
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a suds-guzzling yokel reeking of beer
His wife and his children, dragged up out of bed
All of them looking like warmed-over dead
"Gimme a price check, I'm not good at math
It's why I can't divide nine dollars by half
That's still too expensive, that tree's branch is bent
Mark that down at least 90 percent."
In, repressed anger, emerged and arose
I guess you could say that I snapped, I suppose
My tongue formed the words I could think but not say
They came spilling out anyway
"I'm sorry, good sir, but the answer is no
This business exists to rake in the dough
Buy it or not, I don't give a rip
Lookin' at you's like taking a bad trip"
"Your daughter has lice, it must give you the blues
You can't get a boner, your wife is a flooze
I've got better to do than to to argue with you
You smell of Wild Turkey, your toupee's come unglued"
"And I caught your toddler son
Licking the bathroom tile
If only he knew
How bad it's been defiled"
He raised his hand to hit me, LP came along
And threw them all out through the maddening throng
"Sorry this happened dude, something 'bout this time of year
Fills even the most hardened lifer with fear"
The clock hits 12:30
It's now time to leave
I just punched the clock
I've gained my reprieve
Safe and snug in my car
I allow some revelry
"It's the Day After Christmas
I'm finally free."
'Twas the Morning After Christmas and all through the store
The employees were barely stirring, they had to come in at 4
In the back, three carts of returns, I had heard
They'd been sitting back there since December 23rd
All the folks not in retail were snug in their beds
Visions of sugar plums, 75% off, danced in their heads
The clerks and the cashiers manned their battle stations
Coffee's your friend when you're in for the duration
The day started slowly, I took my first break
My sanity was shredded, my head started to ache
And then, around 10, as one they awakened
Seduced by cheap bargains like Irving to bacon
They reached in a wallet or pocket or purse
And raced back to seasonal, they all had to be first
To buy lotion gift sets and half-off decorations
To take the edge off their yuletide frustration
The lines at the checkouts soon grew to twenty deep
And unwanted items piled up in a heap
"Price check! Carryout! Get carts right away!"
The cashiers' calls boomed over the PA
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a suds-guzzling yokel reeking of beer
His wife and his children, dragged up out of bed
All of them looking like warmed-over dead
"Gimme a price check, I'm not good at math
It's why I can't divide nine dollars by half
That's still too expensive, that tree's branch is bent
Mark that down at least 90 percent."
In, repressed anger, emerged and arose
I guess you could say that I snapped, I suppose
My tongue formed the words I could think but not say
They came spilling out anyway
"I'm sorry, good sir, but the answer is no
This business exists to rake in the dough
Buy it or not, I don't give a rip
Lookin' at you's like taking a bad trip"
"Your daughter has lice, it must give you the blues
You can't get a boner, your wife is a flooze
I've got better to do than to to argue with you
You smell of Wild Turkey, your toupee's come unglued"
"And I caught your toddler son
Licking the bathroom tile
If only he knew
How bad it's been defiled"
He raised his hand to hit me, LP came along
And threw them all out through the maddening throng
"Sorry this happened dude, something 'bout this time of year
Fills even the most hardened lifer with fear"
The clock hits 12:30
It's now time to leave
I just punched the clock
I've gained my reprieve
Safe and snug in my car
I allow some revelry
"It's the Day After Christmas
I'm finally free."
Fabulous! Someone should put it to music, too...and something original at that 
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