Politically Correct Santa



'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to "Elves",
"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.

And labor conditions at the north pole
Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.

And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.

Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."
And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorized use of his nose

And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,

Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.

Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.

Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls. Or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacific.

No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.

For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.

Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.

He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.

Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;

Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere...even you.
So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth...
"May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on earth."

Notice:  This poem is copyright 1992 by Harvey Ehrlich.  It is free to
distribute, without changes, as long as this notice remains intact.
All follow-ups, requests, comments, questions, distribution rights, etc
should be made to  mduhan@husc.harvard.edu .  Happy Holidays!

There was a young lady of Mott
Who inserted a fly up her twat
And pretended the buzz
Was not what it was,
But something she knew it was not. 

Goodbye

Goodbye, you see its time for me to die
It’s really been fun living in hell
And I’m sure it’s beginning to tell;
People are already saying God bless,
Its time this weary head was put to rest.

What is as versatile as a University?
Where the social life is a necessity
And the girls are all after the looks
Rather than what you can do with the books
But does the intention ever justify the end.

Still there are good things with life
Shame they are all double edged knifes
For the weapon is not fit as a sword,
For all we do with vast sums, is hoard
Money it seems will drive us to death.

But what are our best days I am told
It is question that is not quite so bold
For it is something that we all hold the key
Before that is when we cease to see
School and childhood is the answer.

We choose to forget those days
As it was all just a dizzy haze
It is childish and stupid we are told
But it’s the most valuable that we hold
Reminding ourselves of what was in front.

People you see, always see behind
From figures to stats which seem to bind.
Important we feel they may be
But it’s more relaxing just to sip tea
And try to grasp what our future holds.

Goodbye, you see its time for me to die
For what I’ve said could all be a lie
But if that was true then why do I feel dread
As I near my final challenge in facing death
Does the intention ever justify the end.

Sent by Justin Parker

                    There was a young man of Madras
                            
                    Who was fucking a girl in the grass,
                            But the tropical sun
                            Spoiled half of his fun
                            
                    By singeing the hair off his ass.
                            

               A bobby of Nottingham Junction 
               Whose organ had long ceased to function 
                    Deceived his good wife 
                    For the rest of her life 
               With the aid of a constable's truncheon.