Sunday, December 18, 2011


Editor's note: "If Christmas came only once in ten years, still, most of us wouldn't do our shopping till the last minute," Dad wrote as the introduction to this poem.

The Christmas game is on again,
All my money's gone again,
And yet, I'm only halfway down my list;
I'll have to figure out a way
By hook or crook, so I can pay
For something like a dozen I have missed.

I'll re-avow, come New Years Day,
That, ere the summer slips away,
I'll pick up little items, one by one;
Once again, I'll swear that I
Won't let another year go by,
To find me at the end with nothing done!

But this is what I've said before,
I guess, for thirty years or more,
And somehow seem to never carry through;
December twenty-third is when
I'm sure to find myself again
With all my Christmas shopping yet to do.

I guess what really bothers me
Is all the many folks I see
Doing the same, because I realize
when I'm among this frantic crew,
I'm being just as dumb as you
And fifty million other stupid guys!

Hominy Grits (1986)

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