Ex post festum

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    It was the Monday after Christmas,

    And all through my house,

    Every creature was ailing, even my Malibu mouse.

    The adult toys were all broken, their batteries dead;

    I’m sure Santa was passed out, with ice on his head.

    Christmas wrapping and ribbons covered my floor

    My wife sound asleep continued to snore.

    And I in my new boxers and clothing from Deans’,

    Went into the family room and started to clean.

    When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

    I sprang from the sofa to see what was the matter.

    Away to the window I flew like a flash,

    I tore open the curtains, and threw up the sash.

    When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

    But a red, white and blue truck with an oversized mirror.

    The operator was smiling, so lively and grand,

    The patches on his jacket said “U.S. Postman.”

    With a handful of holiday bills, he grinned like a fox

    Then quickly he stuffed them into my mailbox.

    Bill after bill, after bill, after bill, they still came.

    Warbling and shouting he called them by name:

    Now Macy’s, here is Structures’, now Penny’s and Sears

    Here is Robinson’s, Sax’s, Target and Cheer’s.

    To the tip of the limit, every store, every mall,

    Now charge away, charge away, charge away all!

    He yelled and he whistled as he completed his work.

    He filled up my mailbox box, and then turned with a jerk.

    He sprang to his truck and drove down the PCH road,

    Driving much faster with just half a load.

    Then I heard him exclaim with a holiday jeer,

    Enjoy what you got you’ll be paying all year!

    Isn’t that the truth.

    Tom Fakehany