Tuesday, May 17, 2011


With apologies to Clement Clarke Moore

Twas the night before Rapture

When all through the house

Not a creature was praying

Not even a mouse

The Bible was wrapped

with the utmost care

In hopes that recycling

Soon would be there

The children were nestled

All snug in their beds

Veggies had washed

Sugar highs from their heads

Mama in her sweatpants

And the cat in my lap

Had just settled in

With a bourbon and schnaps

When out in the street

There arose such a clatter

I sprang from my laptop

To see what was the matter

Away to the window

I flew like an atheist

Tore open the panes

And let in the mist

The moon half open

On the street below

Reminded me it was

Too late for blow

When what to my wondering

Eyes should jostle

But a miniature cross

And twelve tiny apostles

There was a bearded fellow

So lively and nice

I knew in a moment

It was Jesus Christ

More vapid than sheep

His followers came

And he whistled and shouted

And called them by name

Now Sarah, now Glenn

Now Rush and now Newt

On Donald, on Geithner

On Barack, how cute

To the top of the headlines

Nobels and Bin Ladens

He rose like a reminder

Of what we’ve forgotton

He was dressed all in sackcloth

From his head to his feet

His heart was all tarnished

With what humans need

He worried for mankind

Shouldered his pack

His broad face and round belly

Never looked back

He spoke not a word

And went straight to his work

How could he have enmassed

Such a nation of jerks

And laying a middle finger

Upright he supposed

He’d had the last laugh

When he saw they rose

And I laughed

When I saw them

In spite of myself

Flinging themselves away from hell

As dry leaves that before

The wild hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle,

Mount to the sky,

And then stupidly, profoundly

Deflected from right

They managed to

Step into the fiery light

While the rest of us

Watched in confounded delight

Happy Rapture to All

And this time do it right!

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