My, How Things Change!
It's now two thousand sixty-five.
You'll hardly recognize
old Santa Claus. He's been revamped
from boot tips to his eyes.
Concerned for him, Mrs. Santa hired
a trainer. Gladly, he
worked hubby hard, and now that gut's
as flat as it can be.
Then all those suits made magically
were way too big. The mass-
produced ones, an insult to him,
he'd not wear. They were crass!
The elves who made the suits and toys
left Santa long ago
for better jobs. Now seldom does
he utter, "HO, HO, HO!"
Next, Santa had to lose the pipe.
We've long known smoking's bad.
The kids must not see one more puff.
This change made Santa mad.
The last straw—Santa went to jail
for animal abuse.
He lost his reindeer; now his sleigh
no longer is in use.
How will you recognize him now?
Look for a hot, buff guy
who works full-time for Disneyland.
This sight might make you cry.
He wears a patch on his right arm,
since he still craves the pipe.
He still works out four times a week
just so the wife won't gripe.
The last time he had fast food and
a Coke was long ago.
Give him a four-meat pizza and
he'll holler, "HO, HO, HO!"
by Janice Canerdy
in volume 6 issue 2
in volume 6 issue 2
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