The Enemy of the Good (eideteker) wrote,
The Enemy of the Good
eideteker

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So, the laddie fancies himself a poet, eh?

This is inspired by one of the most amazingest ladies I've ever known, Miss Julie A.

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through livejournal
the posts were a flyin'
(all my friends are nocturnal)
The aggies were all filled with biological glee
And the Yiddishe looking for something for free
With me in flannel pj's
and her far away
I was fast looking forward to an end to the day

I thought of the Deuce Tre, patrolling out west
And of story times at Megan's; always the best
Of little ninjas on mountaintops having a think
and I wondered if Gimp'd yet passed out from drink

The hours grew small; I should have been in my bed,
but I stayed up late talking to Nemo instead.
Dys had just popped on AIM to say, "Hey."
And I knew somehow that Lis was okay.

I worried about friends who were laid up in bed
And wondered about those I feared might be dead
I heard the raspy breathing of our resident lurkers
And the homecoming footsteps of arriving late-workers

As my eyelids grew heavy, and started to flutter,
I dreamt of the Geek Goddess with my #1 soul brother
I thought of the funboys and Anee, our queen
And knew that Chris'n'Tamara were just peachy keen.

Just as I nodded, I awoke with a start
To see a bright little communist, all decked out in art
She spoke in words made of rhythm and blues
With a voice like a dj on the ones and the twos

Her speech danced in my ears with invisible light
A movement so absurd as to encapsulate the night
All I can remember is incredible fun
But she'd gone without telling me whyfore she'd come

Awake in early morning air, and my monitor beaming
With no way to tell if I had been dreaming
I staggered around, like the rowdiest drunk
Looking to strangle that communist punk

I angrily shouted, "That little thief!"
"She's stolen my presents, and left me with grief!"
I ran for my gun, for to set all things right
Crying, "Merry Jishmas to all,"
I disappeared into the night.

That said, I think I will try to go to sleep. I won't succeed, but I am just blaaaaah after today. All the cookies in the world do not make up for treating your bank tellers shitty the rest of the year, I'm sorry.

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