Books & Writings by SPam McGee

Alaska Short Stack Stories, Series I, II, & III ~ Alaska's Deadliest Sin-Drill Baby Drill ~ Alaskan Company Man ~ Eklutna Lake Worrier ~ From the Fifth Floor ~ Hannah Cove ~ My Journey to Landes House ~ Poemetrics ~ Quinn the "Tanik" Eskimo ~ S.O.S. from Beaver Lake ~ The Teachings of the Swamp Fox ~ Trans-Alaska-Pipeline Funny Stories ~ Spirit Dog & the Ghost Wind


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Saturday, December 24, 2016

And So This Is Christmas...

'Twas the night before Doomsday, when all through the Tower
Not a migrant was smiling, only the high rolling liars;
The nooses were hung by the gallows so clear,
In hopes Beach Haven memories soon would be feared;

The workers  went hungry in their beds full of bugs,
While visions of nuclear-plumes danced in their heads;
And Miss Liberty in her chastity, and Uncle Sam in his cuffs,
Had just been sentenced to life in affordable striped stuff ,

When out on the “Twitter” there arose such a chatter,
I sprang from the gutter to see what was the matter.
Far and away in front of that 5th Avenue hell’s door,
The maggot sank kindred spirits and banned peace on earth.

The Bribe art of the beast now sworn to war
stunk of the lust whence our children became whores,
When, what to my burning eyes should appear,
But a sinister monster, and eight Gingrich red thorns,

With a very bad manner, so cloudy and sick,
I knew in a moment it must be Donald the Prick.
More horrid than ebola his coronation would come,
And he cursed, and shouted, and called us rude names;

"Now, Migrant now, Paleass!, now, Liberal and Aunt Jemima!
No, Bootlip! No Muslim! No, Camel and Chi-chi!
To the top of the tower! On the stairs of the Mar a logo!
Now go away! go away! go away all you damn peasants!"

And then came the invasion, I heard on the tweet
The pounding and pawing of liberty to defeat.
As I protected my freedom, and was turning around,
Down the chimney his posse came with a demand.

They were dressed all in gold, from  head to foot,
And frowns all tarnished like kiss his ass or else;
A bundle of  stolen loot he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedophile just showing his wank.

His eyes -- how they scorned! his nose how merry!
His cheeks were sick red, his nose running!
His drooling little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the hairdo of his sin was as evil as the troll;

He was chubby and plump, a sadistic old fool,
And I laughed when I saw him, he spit in my eye;
Came evil of his facelift and a fist of his hate,
Soon gave me the knowledge I had everything to loose.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And stole all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And gave us the finger and then picked his crusty old nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

He sprang to his limo, to his team of “turncoats” he gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like criminals on trial.
But I heard him explode, ere he drove out of sight,

Donald Tyrump's Yule Log!

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