Christmas at the Commune

Santa travels once each year with gifts and deer and sleigh,
Stopping over a billion times all along the way.
But one stop he enjoys far more than most of all the others -
Is visiting the Black Bear Ranch and sharing with sisters and brothers.
He sheds his coat and hat and socks and hops on in the creek,
And blushes just a little bit at those who take a peek.
For clothes are just an option there and not a very good one,
Cause less is more at Black Bear Ranch so most the people wear none.
The girls sing Jingle Bells and other fitting songs;
The guys compare their beards with Santa cause his is very long.
Marshmallows are roasted 'round the fire as sparks fly in the air;
The peace pipe is passed a time or two - all are happy to share.
The night is filled with dancing and cool aid and smoke rings rising high;
They circle round the stars above and sway in the Christmas sky.
Soon morning comes and Santa bids them all a wondrous year,
Puts on his coat and hat and socks and wipes away his tears.
For it will be another year when he waves the communal branch,
On his return to see his friends at the wonderful Black Bear Ranch.

Bad Tradition

Aunt Loraine, who's quite insane,
Never returned from Memory Lane.
Her cat's named "Bulldog" her dog's named "Fish"
She makes a casserole called Petri Dish.

But those are small things compared to one,
Those things don't matter, they're kind of fun.
This is madness A La Mode,
Aunt gets festive with her commode.

She decorates it once a year,
To all but her it is quite queer.
At Christmas time she gets no tree,
No wreath, and no Nativity.

She takes her ornaments and lights
And hangs them round the pot of white -
The John, the Head, the porcelain bank;
It glows and shines from base to tank.

It's not so bad until that time,
After turkey, cornbread, dumplings, wine;
When tummies rumble and sweat begins,
And supper travels from mouths to ends.

The wires they tangle, the bulbs they burst;
If you have to sit then it's the worst.
The garland itches, the stars do poke,
The toilet paper sparks and smokes.

It's filled with Egg Nog in the bowl,
Above it hangs the mistletoe.
Around the base the presents lie,
When flushed it plays "Oh Holy Night."

And if you must go number two,
Saint Nicholas yells "Ho Ho Pew!"
No comic strips or magazines,
So please lay off the pork and beans!

Each year I swear will be my last
At Aunt Lorain's Ol' Christmas bash.

Sin-O-Meter

In the parish of St. Millzeter
Lived one pastor named Brother Peter
Holier he thought than a fasting skeeter
Glad to be Millzeter's leader

Each Sunday morn he'd preach the word
"From sin and folly, y'all must turn!"
"And if you don't you'll surely burn!"
"A man who sins is quite absurd!"

To better help those in Millzeter
He created a new Sin-O-Meter
To separate those in Millzeter
The "Good" from liars, thieves, and cheaters

Each person wore upon their head
A Sin-O-Meter like Peter said
So all could see the sins of Ted,
Bill and John and Rose and Jed

So in the town of St. Millzeter
The one whose leader was Brother Peter
Where everyone wore a Sin-O-Meter
The town now full of thieves and cheaters

For the Sin-O-Meters blinked and blinked
Heads hung low all through the streets
All were filled up with deceit
Millzeter was a town defeated

On Sunday morn the church was filled
They beat their breasts, emotions spilled
Brother Peter smiled - he was quite thrilled
His Sin-O-Meter still showed nil

But little Jimmy gave out a shout
He noticed Peter's batteries out
He gave his own, that little sprout
And Peter's Meter turned about

All eyes up front towards Peter's head
His hands were white, his face was red
His Sin-O-Meter quickly spread
From zero and white to black instead

And then Granny Nadle dropped her teeth
They fell right down beside her feet
She leaned on over and tried to reach
And flashed her bloomers in front of preacher

With skirts flung up and bloomers shown
Pete's Sin-O-Meter then exploded
He ran out the church and down the road
And passed the cross and never slowed