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Tragic Rabbit

JINGLE, a TR Christmas poem

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Jingle,

The stores are filled with Santas

All trying to make a buck;

The malls are filled with elf boys

None cute enough to fuck.

I?m deadly sick of Christmas

And jingles of the bells,

I?m sick of Ho-Ho humbug

And all the Noel smells.

I?d like to take their bunting

And ram it up their ass;

Spray imitation snowflakes

On more than just the glass.

Who needs a plastic angel

To know Xmas is near?

Nothing short of happy hour

Can give me Yuletide cheer.

Don?t tell me to keep buying

For love of baby Christ,

This kind of Christmas giving

Feels closer to a heist.

I loathe your grim insistence

That we all celebrate;

Each shiny shopping flyer

Is something new to hate.

So take your balls and stick ?em

Where winter sun don?t shine;

If I?ve got to act happy

I graciously decline.

Your carols and your candy

Are nothing more than crass,

Your credit terms and specials

Would look good up your ass.

If Christ is really looking

Do you think he?d approve

Of all this hectic hubbub

With Him at one remove?

You?re such a bunch of shitheads

To spend your cash this way,

And acting so self-righteous

Of middle class display.

You want to be a Christian?

Try handing out some green,

Not just on yearly Christmas

But all the days between.

But don?t buy crap for Xmas

Try buying something real,

Like funding or a project

That brings in daily meals.

This shit about some Santa

And all his little elves

Says nothing of tradition,

Says more about yourselves.

If you want fairy stories,

Come to my neighborhood

And learn a different meaning

From what you understood.

But leave me out of Christmas,

Your huckster holiday:

Enough deceit and bullshit

For Scrooge to feel dismay.

Take all your trees and tinsel

Your light-up manger scenes

Your sweating mall rat Santas

Your sale ads in latrines.

Take all that shit and stick it

Where I don?t have to see

What Christ means to this country,

This vendors? jubilee.

Hey, if my view offends you

If you think it?s all swell

That Christmas is a shit crock,

Well, you can go to hell.

Buy all the shiny trinkets

Max out your credit line

Eat candy till you?re puking

And make the mall your shrine.

But don?t expect assistance

With all your Ho-Ho hype,

Don?t think I?m going to chime in

Cause I?m just not the type.

You?re all a bunch of liars

Your cheer is surface deep,

Amid the hype of buying

You?re all a bunch of sheep.

So take your singing reindeer

And ghosts of Christmas Crass

Your sales and Yuletide ?specials?

And cram them up your ass.

*

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Thanks, Gabe. You know, I'm not surprised and I was actually thinking of you while I wrote it, haha! I guess I shouldn't be surprised that most people don't like it, or anyhow don't mention it. I'm more hurt that no one seems to like Murder On The Oscar Wilde, actually.

I always wanna sit by you Gabe, at the cool table. :3some:

Kisses...

TR

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