Monday, December 17, 2012

Beat Elves

Tired of the electronic circuitry line
For the X – something,
Weee – something
Gang of letter writers
Bubs and Jeebers
Packed their woodwinds
Swapping this ice block
For a jazz gig down south
Catching the first dogsled
Out of the tundra
Heading for Mama Millie’s Moose Bar
Burning up some hot jazz
Sweating up a rainstorm
For the drought of the land
Drought in their hearts
Serenading some round-eared,
Red-nosed dolls
Making them pine
For a cooler life
In winter wonderland
With some buck-eyed stags,
Some sandman tunes
Into the magic of twilight
Shaking a tail
High tailing it north
For that mystical trade-off
With shining stars
Lit-up elves
Donning their shades in the sun
Until their numbers came up
Finding their callings
On the MP3 line
As the Big Man smiles
And whistles Dixie.