The first Christmas (with apologies to Clement Moore)

’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the world, So much was chaos, so much had swirled. The corpses were hung by the Temple with glee, With hope that all zealots would stop, look, and see. The children were hungry as they stirred on the ground. Their parents felt worthless. They looked round and frowned. Mom pulled her hair and I stroked my beard. The life we were stuck with was all we had feared.

When out by the stable there arose such a clatter, I ran out the door to see what was the matter. Light from the moon helped me see that the manger Was suddenly the scene of a new, troubling danger. Nine shepherds, all roughnecks, well known to be wild Stood staring intently at a small, newborn child. One said to another, “Ah, what a great thrill!” I knew from their nature they were planning to kill.

But then with my wondering eye I could see Their leader instructing them, “Guys, take a knee.” They dropped to the floor and suddenly were tame, As their leader spoke quietly and called them by name. “Now, Masher! now, Rancid! now Killerand Vixen! Sing, Vomit! sing, Stupid! sing, Robber and Nixon! Here is the Christ who’ll turn darkness to light. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”