‘Twas the time before Christmas, reflecting back on 2017
Not much had worked, from what has been seen;
Politicians fired rockets and taunted without care,
National security, sovereignty, diplomacy was where;
People once thought concerts were safe as a bed,
Bombings and shootings, sugar plum visions fled
Hillary still held her ‘kerchief, and Bill his cap,
Supporters unsettled, maybe in 2020 they’d be back–
On the internet things were said with such a clatter,
Put a hashtag on any opinion and surely it must matter.
Those within range fear a North Korean ICBM flash,
Batten down the shutters, and what is this rash.
The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow,
The line above unchanged, relevant to what’s below;
When, from Tinsel Town they came to say #MeToo,
A cause to slay, power abused by more than a few,
Thinking with that little old driver, so lively and quick,
Know in a moment it must rhyme with St. Nick.
Now there’s the question of a kiss under mistletoe,
Don’t whistle, or shout, and know “no” means no:
“Lapland is real, with reindeer not dancers or vixen;
“Don’t play cupid, and helper elves need to listen;
“Keep those knitted jumpers on although they appal;
“Remove if consensual! Then away! Eggnog and all!”
As elsewhere some pondered cryptocurrencies how and why,
Meanwhile the bubble of Bitcoin, its price mounts to the sky;
In the land Down Under, flags of rainbows they flew,
“Yes” was voted – adults could marry who they want to.
And in that twinkle of glitter, thrown from the roofs
Traditionalists spoke in tongues of damn horses’ hoofs.
Freedom of speech and religion can still be found,
Political correctness how tightly it has bound:
So dress not in fur, it’s about ethical treatment,
Save a turkey, eat tofu, more vegans needed;
Trump says merry Christmas no change in tact,
Because wishing happy holidays is a load of crap:
His words – how they tweeted! His hair: how brushed,
His cheeks were like roses, his tax reform rushed;
His droll little mouth said Jerusalem is Israel’s capital,
Now many Arabs protest and there’s whisper of battle;
On a roll with the bit held tightly in his teeth,
Next is to Mexico to build that wall like a wreath.
If free to navigate, one will travel akin to a belt round a belly
Borders are laughed at, like a bowl of trifle without jelly:
And with a sleigh full of toys, flying reindeer at yoke,
Presents for all good girls, and boys, and intersex folk;
Learn to Build-A-Bear and make it appropriately so,
Unlike in Christmas past, don’t tickle me there Elmo.
Taking offense at the word, the diligent began correcting works,
Because the spelling of Christmas as xmas, is grammar for jerks,
And starting sentences with “and” can get on the nose
And please check this list twice for spelling and prose.
Then there’s Santa, bearded like the last Jedi at work,
It doesn’t end how you think, that’s a spoiler alert:
But read it exclaimed, ere these words slip from sight–
Merry Christmas to all, and to all of 2017 good night.
-
Sugar Plum