The Day after Christmas

Courtesy of David R.

Twas the day after Christmas, and all through the house,
every creature was sleeping, even the mouse.

The toys were all broken, their batteries dead,
Santa passed out with some ice on his head.

Wrapping and ribbons covered the floor,
while upstairs the family continued to snore.

And I in my T-shirt, new Reeboks and jeans,
went into the kitchen and started to clean.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the sink to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the curtains and threw up the sash.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a little white truck with an oversize mirror.

The driver was smiling, so lively and grand,
the patch on his jacket said US POST-MAN.

With a handful of bills, he grinned like a fox,
then quickly stuffed them into our box.

Bill after bill and still they all came,
whistling and counting he called them by name.

Now Dillard's, now Broadway, now Penney's and Sears,
here's Levitz and Target and Mervyn's....all here.

To the top of your limit, every store, every mall,
now chargeaway, chargeaway, chargeaway all!!

He chuckled and whistled as he finished his work,
he filled up the box, then turned with a jerk.

He sprang to his truck and he drove down the road,
driving much faster with just half of a load.

Then I heard him exclaim with great holiday cheer,

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