Twas The Day Before Tuesday
December 02, 2003
'Twas the day before Tuesday, when all through the church
Not an oldster was stirring, not even an elder;
The laundry was hung by the heater with care,
In hopes that Rudy soon would soon fix the dryer;
The teacher was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of parent teacher conferences danced in his crazy head;
When out in the parking lot there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But some a-hole breaking into my car, (and eight tiny reindeer,)
With a little old thief, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be a Heroine Addict.
More rapid than eagles he rummaged my stuff,
And I whistled, and shouted, and called him foul names;
"[This language can�t be used around Dr. Ashby or Anna Hasty]
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So into the crack house the junkie he flew,
With pockets full of my stuff, and my anorak too.
