Doll In A Box

Oh Barbie doll oh Barbie doll
Oh how you mock me so
My daughter did delight with awe
Just 2 hours ago

At the pink perfection of
You laying in your box
Which as it turns out’s harder to
Get into than Fort Knox

Your head and hands are bound up like
Some obscene S & M
That makes me wonder what is going
On with you and Ken

Or more important what cruel trick
That Santa has delivered
I work my way through twist ties so
Precarious my scissors

As Christmas cheer, good will towards men
Does quickly travel south
My daughter stares in horror at
Mom foaming at the mouth

But Barbie sits with a fixed grin
Through my verbal abuse
And much to my amazement I
Can feel her coming loose!

I hold her like a trophy but
Become dismayed to find
Indeed she’s loose although I see
Her head is left behind

My daughter screams and so it seems
Our Christmas celebration
Will end in plastic remnants of
Barbie’s decapitation

Industrial strength plastic tabs
Positioned like a sword
Which affix the back of her skull
Right on to the cardboard

And despite that some celebrate
Their savior’s anniversary
I see no other choice but to
Perform extensive surgery

I tell my daughter to be brave
She seems able to grapple
I don the gloves, line up the knives and
Prompt my daughter ‘Scalpel”

And so begins the operation
And the very serious
Labor sewing, cutting all
Which seems to be quite tedious

But after hours I did bring
Back Barbie from the dead
I snipped off all her plastic tags
I reattached her head

And now I must convince my girl
That she is the town envy
And that Barbie’s new uneven bob
Is hip and chic and trendy.


Rudolf The Red Nosed Reindeer: Behind The Nose

You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen,
You know Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen,
But do you know of the rise and fall
Of the most famous reindeer of all?

Well early on I guess you know
He had it pretty bad
Bullied all through childhood
Rejected by his dad

Santa tried to help him on
That night so over cast
But Rudolf was already down
A no good wayward path

Now suddenly surrounded by
The friends he met through fame
Who plied him well with alcohol
And mountains of cocaine

And as his star was rising and
His videos gone viral
So began the process of a
Sure and downward spiral

Sometimes he’d answer drunkenly
To Santa’s Christmas call
Sometimes he’d show up hungover
And sometimes not at all

But Santa finally had to show
Rudolf the exit sign
When he ran over grandma back
In 1979

A fake nose on a younger deer
New fangled and shined brighter
Told all that it was Rudolf and
Most folks were none the wiser

Meanwhile things for Rudolf looked
Like they were really bad
He did a stint on Dr. Drew’s
Celebrity Rehab

Tried working at Christmas displays
Pulling sleds on teams
But he was always shown the door
Unable to keep clean

And so alone he turned to frozen
Tundras for survival
Until he willingly succumbed
To a huntsman’s rifle

Who later brought him home unto
His family to eat
But his wife saw a strange red light
Glowing in the meat

It’s probably a good thing that
The family did refrain
Toxicology reports found deadly
Levels of cocaine

And so poor Rudolf went down in
Abject obscurity
Children feel free to sing along
It’s in the key of G.


Christmas Wrap

I’m the Queen of Queens the Brooklyn Babe
From New York to Seattle
I’ll take the crown I’ll take you down
In any old rap battle

And when fools see me comin’ well
They best be takin’ heed
Nickel and dimin’ for the rhymin’
I’m like Shakespeare on speed

There’s a kind of rappin’s got me down
It’s like a cold ass diss
That’s the kind of wrappin that is happ’nin
With those Christmas gifts

I’m foschizzle with the scissors
I’m a master with the tape
But it ain’t my fault the Barbie box
Has such a weird ass shape

One time I wrapped a Christmas gift
That was made for my mom
The FBI was at my house
They thought it was a bomb

I come to Christmas parties and
My gifts I don’t dare label
I be bookin’ when they’re not lookin’
And I shove em neath the table

And beneath your tree you’ll clearly see
My Christmas aberration
Like a little lad with really bad
Hand eye coordination

I don’t care the paper’s cut up so
It’s too big or too small
The wrap is crap they’re lucky that
They got a gift at all


If Santa Was Jewish

If Santa was Jewish
When he came to call
You’d serve Manischevitz
And some matzah balls

He’d ride in a Caddy
From New York to Tuscon
And give the kids toys
He’d buy with a coupon

And carry them all
In his oversized sack
That read Minka’s Deli
Then say “Oy, my back”

He’d place the toys down
By the fireplace floor
And turn with a moron
And walk out the door

Because Jewish Santa
Just doesn’t do chimneys
But mutters about them
Being too flimsy

“To reindeer he’d call out
On Moshe, on Schlomy
On Dovid, on Avi
On Ruth, on Naomi

To the top of the porch
Come on you old herd
We may make it back
For the end of Goldbergs”

Then he’d drive off munching
A bagel and schmear
And say “Oy, I’m glad that’s done
Until next year.”


The Gift of the Moron

Twas Christmas Eve The Dillingham’s
Did desperately endeavor
To buy each other gifts with naught
Two dimes to rub together

Della sat there pondering
Then suddenly she knew
To buy her man a Christmas gift
Just what she had to do

Her lovely hair she had to sell
And wear it short and plain
And in return for his fine watch
She would purchase a chain

So Christmas Day did come around
And so proud of her thrift
She did present her husband with
His valuable gift

But upon his unwrapping she thought
“What the bloody hell?”
His face did not light up so much
In fact it plainly fell

He said “Della it’s wonderful
But I’ve a sad confession
The watch to which this chain may suit’s
No longer my possession

I sold it in town yesterday
I’m sorry but it’s true
But with the best intentions of
Buying this gift for you”

And so produced a hand wrapped gift
And gave it to his wife
It was a flowered china dish
That read on it “Thug Life”

The inspiration for this poem was a prompt from Stephanie aka Little Miss Menopause at Once Upon Your Prime. She gave it to me some time ago but I wasn’t quite able to make it work until I saw this…ahem…unique holiday gift suggestion.


Dream Gig

“Santa’s a zombie
His suit is blood red
Ms. Clause is a gorgon
The elves are undead
The reindeers are werewolves
It’s truly insane
You best leave him cookies
Of chocolate chip brains
And dedicate all
Of your personal effects
Because, oh what fun
It looks like your next!”

And look at him there
All jolly and fat
Best to bring up
The next little brat

“Ms. Clause sleeps around
And Santa’s on drugs
The elves all sniff glue
The reindeers are thugs
But all should be fine
As long as you see
Your partridge’s securely
Tied to your pear tree
Those five golden rings
Are a slight concern
And those milking maids…
Of fun, it’s your turn”

And heinous those jingle bells
Just keep on jingling
Here comes another
He’s already sniveling

“Oh my dear boy
Tears fall from your eyes
Would you like to tell
This dear old elf why?
Not good this year?
Blackness in your soul?
Well you’ll get off easy
With one lump of coal
Cause now Santa’s eating
All of the bad kids
Look it’s your turn
His teeth sure look big”

The joys of the season
Are mine to behold
This elf at the mall thing
Just never gets old


Awol At The Mall

Map and compass, water bottle,
Check check check and check
Bandages, tinder and whistle
Hanging from my neck

But despite the preparedness
Of my survival pack
I struggle to identify
Whether this discount rack

Is the same one that I’ve seen
Some three hours before
Or if I’ll find the exit out
From the department store

I know I’m not to panic but
This sure is getting dreadful
I no longer see the trail I left
From my Wetzel’s Pretzel

The salesgirl has directed me
But somehow I’m condemned
To end up turning up in the
Perfume section again

Where some women keeps spraying me
with the Drakkar Noir
I look a confused housewife but
I smell like a French whore

And so my circling continues
It’s really quite upsetting
I think of maybe starting a
Rescue fire in bedding

My water ration’s running low
A most rueful subsistence
When bright lights of Target I see
Shining in the distance

Intent am I to get to where
The far off lights are glowing
I focus in on them and look
Not quite where I am going

I topple a Christmas display
A very stressed salesman
And what seems to be the whole of the
Kardashian clan

And finally I reach the mall
Like a woman obsessed
And just miss a collision with
Santa’s Fun Time Express

Shoppers give me funny looks
But I don’t give a damn
I only hope my family
Remembers who I am

And on a mission that perhaps
Sweet freedom will be mine
I make a beeline out of there
At the first exit sign

And as I breath in the fresh air
I kneel to kiss the ground
Only to find a much greater
Dilemma to be found

For as the night time air gets cold
And the sun fades to dark
There’s no way in hell that I’ll
Remember where I parked


Ode To Frank

Oh Frank you were a horrid soul
Behind the blinds you hid
Your winter years you did devote
To frightening our kids

Lumb’ring round the apartment like
Some great barbaric ape
The wide girth of your belly peeking
Through bathrobe agape

The lawn was public prop’ty yet
You warned them not to play
So menacing your words and looks
Our own dreadful cliche

You claimed it did disturb your work
Although I am quite sure
You must have been retired now
100 years or more

And sometimes with a camera there
I saw you taking pics
Innocent young limbs all stolen
By your subtle clicks

So who knows what was really studied
When on the computer
Your thinking as kids ran for fear
From your motorized scooter

But theories and assumptions quickly
Replaced by amazement
When yesterday I saw your place is
Now blissfully vacant

Imagine how the children sang
So long they’d been denied
They cheered and danced as if the wicked
Witch herself had died

They excavated worms, cartwheeled
Rejoiced like it was Christmas
As I thought of your face if you
Were only there to witness

This little plot of land you did
Unwillingly bequeath
And what a fitting fate to find you
6 feet underneath.


Crawling Through The Wreckage

Christmas is over,
New Years is done,
A bleak cold landscape,
As we shoulder on.

Temperatures plummet,
On skies that are grey,
We attempt to look forward,
To Valentine’s Day.

My inspiration,
Is brought to a halt,
As yellow and black snow,
Is melted by salt.

But as we look forward,
Let’s not rehash,
A holiday better off,
Left in the past.

Or just out of laziness,
End up that guy,
Who still has decorations,
Left up in July.

Please no Christmas carols,
I tire of stanzas,
Reveling in good cheer,
And Rudolph and Santa.

Throw out your trees,
Pine needle dispersal,
Store seasonal sweaters,
Update those commercials.

With each passing day,
The new season gets closer,
So in the meantime,
Be glad that it’s over.