Stiltsville Version of
'Twas the Night Before Christmas
by Antoinette Baldwin and Jane Lanahan

'Twas the night before Christmas and all throughout Stiltsville,
Not an engine was running, even the water stood still.
The stockings were slung over the railing with care,
In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Pokemon danced in their heads.
And Ma in her t-shirt, and I in the buff,
Had just settled down from eating too much.
When all of a sudden there rose such a splash,
I was hoping and praying it wasn't my boat crashed.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature skiff and eight tiny key deer.
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a instant it must be Saint Nick.
He called to his deer with an accent so thick,
Santa, I thought, his-panic?
"On Desi! Ah Luuucy! Yo Rusty! On Nutmeg and Cracker!
Rudolph? Is that your nose or the red channel marker?
To the top of the pilings! Hey Guys! Watch out for that mast!
Whoa Frosty! Whoa Elliot! It's Stiltsville at last!"
And then in a twinkling I heard on the pier,
The prancing and pawing of each little deer.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
Up the deck Saint Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed in Versace, Armani and Klein,
And his clothes were all tarnished with bird poop and wine.
A bundle of toys he had flung over his head,
"Boy this stuff's heavy," I think that's what he said.
The Cohiba he held up tight in his teeth,
And the smoke - it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and was a stocky little man,
And his belly shook like bowl full of flan.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, he then turned with a jerk.
He went right for the pork, the black beans and rice,
He drank all the port, "Hmmm! That was nice!"
He boarded his skiff, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they took off, like a hydroplane missile.
More rapid than cars speeding down I-95,
And he whistled and shouted, "Elvis! It's true! He's alive! He's alive!"
Up he did soar with power and will,
Leaving behind a very happy Stiltsville.
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight:
"Merry Christmas to all, and Let's keep up the fight!"