Blue Corn: Santa Fe Santa

Twas the night before Christmas, all around Santa Fe
Folks donned their apparel – yes, some of it gay
Our stockings were hung by the chimney for cheer,
I suppose we should wash them, well, maybe next year---

I put on my kerchief, went out on the stoop,
Walked down to our outhouse, for a Christmas Eve poop
I took stuff to read, in just the right order
l start with that 'Blue Corn' thing, in The Reporter

But out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
Wow! If that's Santa, he is sure getting fatter!
To the door of the outhouse I flew like a flash
I looked through the crescent and reached for my stash

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer
I thought, poor old Santa, he hasn't a clue!
If I see those reindeer, the coyotes do, too!

More rapid than eagles, his coursers were blurs!
I was kind of surprised, he called them by slurs

"Now, Stupid, now, Shorty, now, Barfy and Boozer,
"On, Four-Eyes, on, Trashy, on Honky and Loser!

And then, in a twinkling I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof
I raced through the doorway, tracking in mud,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas dropped, with a thud!

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his toes,
With tattoos on his neck and a stud in his nose

The kind of attire that could raise a stink

Fur is cruel, so Santa Claus, yo! Lose the mink!

His eyes - how they twinkled! He was hip, he was urban
His cheeks were like roses, I think from the bourbon
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook like Gefilte Fish, down at the deli

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elfie,
If I looked like that, I would NOT post a selfie!
A wink of his eye, and a twist of his head,
He looked like the guy who tends bar at The Shed!

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
I kept my distance, I continued to lurk
He arranged all our gifts, they were wrapped to perfection,

Then he pulled from his toy sack A REAL ESTATE SECTION!

I stepped from the shadows – I had to inquire
He said, "Look, I need me a place to retire!
"Santa Fe is one city where I won't seem weird,
"In my boots, my red suit and my fluffy white beard!"

"My age is no problem, not here in this town,
"I'll still be the youngest newcomer around!

"I stopped by the Plaza for smokes – got a carton
"They thought I was some guy named George R. R. Martin!"

"Santa Fe is so different, not tacky or tawdry
"Look! I'm loving this street called Acequia Madre!

"I'm making a list, and I'm checking it twice,
"I can buy on the Eastside for a pretty good price!"

"I'll still be Kris Kringle, each child who behaves

"Can find me in the hot tub, up at Ten Thousand Waves!"

Then, jamming a finger inside of his nose
And giving a nod, up the kiva he rose

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew, like a Taliban missile
'Ere he drove out of sight, I heard the dude say,

"HEY! I'M YOUR NEW NEIGHBOR! BLESS YOU ALL, SANTA FE!"

 Email the author: bluecorn@sfreporter.com

Santa Fe Reporter