‘Twas the Toke Before Christmas
A Visit from St. Nicholas During the ICE Age
‘Twas the toke before Christmas, when all through the house
Everyone had the munchies; yes, even the mouse;
The ashtrays were wiped and the bong put away,
A lemon-lime gummy completed our day.
The children were lying awake in their beds,
As visions of ICE raids replayed in their heads;
Their teacher was taken with screaming and tears,
A traumatic image they’ll carry for years.
When suddenly noises disrupted the quiet,
I ran from the bedroom, could it be a riot?
Then masked men with rifles from vans did appear,
Surrounding a sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
They stole all the presents and ransacked the sleigh,
And Rudolph the Reindeer was taken away.
Who ordered this action? I asked the ICE men,
“King Donald,” they told me. “He’ll do it again.”
This holiday season an image would bring:
An amputee White House that’s missing a wing,
And naughty-list all-stars who wander its aisles
With icicle eyeballs and licorice smiles.
With MAGA credentials they came from afar,
Their names are not secret, we know who they are:
There’s cosplaying Kristi and yellow-haired Pam
And worm-eaten Bobby who looks like a yam;
There’s Peter so tipsy and Russell so mean,
And hollow-eyed Stephen whose soul has gangrene.
The King has all power, they want to believe,
But jolly old Santa had tricks up his sleeve.
The ICE men went back in the van before long,
And realized with horror that Santa was gone;
He’d fled with the reindeer and flew to the moon,
Where Rudoph the Reindeer would join them quite soon.
The mask-wearing ICE men believe they’re so tough;
It’s Santa and Rudolph who have the right stuff.
In just a few moments old Santa was back,
With presents for children all stuffed in his sack;
Avoiding the radar, he visited homes,
While Rudolph the red-nosed distracted the drones.
And once in our house to the table he flew
To eat milk and cookies - he had munchies, too!
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
I said, “Thank you, Santa, I know you can’t stay.”
“But, on your way out, could you exhale my way?”
He giggled and smiled and told us goodbye,
And I must admit to a tear in my eye.
There will always be Santa, I said to myself;
I will not let go of this magical Elf.
The holiday season’s a wonderful thing,
We celebrate Santa, but never a king;
I waved at the Elf and his tiny reindeer,
And said with a smile, “I will see you next year.”
He said, “I will be here and bring you some things,
Nice presents for children, but nothing for kings.”
But I heard him exclaim and it wasn’t a joke,
“Happy Christmas to all. Man, could I use a toke!”