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Whoville/ Shmooville

H.J. Cruz

It’s a cinch you’ll want the Grinch when in a pinch!

If you want a good boy…get a Lab!

I’ve been fair; at times, but when I’m bad I’m better,

I’m just scratchy in this turtleneck sweater,

But when I’m sad I’m a real go getter,

All the better!

Now see here you whoville shmooville’s.

I don’t need Burly Ives and Natty Coles,

Plastic playthings, spirograph or GI Joe,

Rather cruise burmuda or catch a vegas show.

And don’t go look’n for me at Christ’s Mass,

Been there done that; this year I’ll pass,

I’ll be brewin a stew of sufferen succotash.

They’ll send cards & letters and hillshire farm,

Photos of strange children, protected from harm,

My rich Aunt Nelly’s obituary; oh what a charm.

If they want silent nights and peace on earth,

Just blow up a prison; return indigenous turf,

Better yet, start a petition to outlaw childbirth.

A colossal commercial; they’ll spend like fools.

That fat guy’s a phony, so if you want to be cool,

Join me & the grinch; I hear he’s got a hairy tool.

What’s that you say? That’s totally obscene?

Think we have pentacled foreheads come holloween,

Rather hang with big eared elves & swill Harveys Cream.

Oh come on all yee faithful, don’t you know santa only pays minimum wage, and the only reason they hang with the fat dude is cause we cut all there trees for decorating and they had no where else to go.

I know you want that touch of intangible whimsy,

But I’m here tell ya the whole thing is flimsy,

I mean sure there’s;

Egg Nog- Yule Log- Puppy dogs,

Holliday cheer- drinky beer-Joyful tears,

Flying home-front yard knomes-koda chromes,

Furry clothes-sentimental prose-Rudolphs nose,

Holiday lights-parking lot fights-googly eyed tykes,

O’l aings eign-pecan pie-gingerbread guy,

Christmas morn-wrappers torn-unicorn.

But what about;

New Years day-Bills to pay-IRS on its way,

Counting calories-Discount salaries-Vacant galleries,

Heavy snow-catching colds-frozen toes,

Damming beavers-cabin fever-neurotic bereavers,

Empty bowls-cultural woes-depressed souls,

Another years spent, paying lifes rent, atone or repent,

December/ dismember/ legal tender.

To join the grinch club send a $50.00 membership fee to;

The grinch club

Yada, Yada

Gobble, Gobble

Maybe we’ll call

Anyone caught steeling this poem shall be rewarded.

Don’t ask!