'Twas the night before Christmas, and throughout the Puget Sound
No Starbucks were open, no latte could be found.
Stockings were hung by false chimneys with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas would soon be there.
The Twelfth Men were nestled all snug in their beds,
Visions of the Super Bowl danced in their heads;
Those hip Microsofties and bearded Boeing chaps,
Had all settled down for their long winter naps.
When close to the Needle there rose such a clatter,
I put down my Kindle to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the noisy shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the snowy roof of the local Costco
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.
Like an Amazon drone before the wild hurricane fly,
When it meets with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the rooftop the reindeer they flew,
With the sleigh full of gifts, and a jolly fat-man too.
Like a Formula-1 driver, so lively and quick
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
Zig-zagging like Marshawn, his reindeer they came,
And he hooted, and hollered, and called them by name;
"Now Reefer! Now Chronic! Now Weed, now Grass!
On Mary Jane! On Skunk! On Blunt! Hemp’s such a gas!
“To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now light up!” he yelled, “There’s enough Dope for all!"
And then, in a moment, I hear on the roof,
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I reached for my smartphone, and was turning around,
Down the chimney came Santa with one clumsy bound.
His eyes — how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was white as the snow.
The stump of a bong he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he sneezed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was loaded and high, 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 made my pale face turn the brightest of red.
For now he was twitching from his head to his foot,
His fat fingers were tarnished with nicotine and soot;
A bundle of pot products he had flung on his back,
He looked like a stoner as he opened his pack.
He spoke not a word; he clearly loved his work
And filled all the stockings with a knowing smirk,
And sucking his pipe, as he mumbled his ho ho hoes
He gave me a sly wink then up the chimney he rose.
For time marched towards 4.20, and soon he would go,
To give out marijuana in Colorado.
And I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
“Watch out for the Cops, we mustn’t DUI tonight!”