An Observer of Life in Bad Poetry

I suppose by now you all have seen the story of the happy elves in Santa’s workshop
Singing, dancing and tapping away all wearing their cute pointy elf hats on top
Did you ever stop for a minute about who cares for the fat man’s reindeer?
Somehow the elf H R crone assigned that job to me as my new career
I really don’t understand her notion that I’m the one who peed in her Wheaties
Maybe thinking that my sweet sugar plum bribe attempt added to her type II diabetes
Elf school is a cut throat competition as jobs are assigned from workshop to stable mucker
The brown nosing that goes on is enough to make portions of your anatomy pucker
So here I am in the busiest time of the year with my wheelbarrow and muck rake
Up to my boot tops in high octane poo and a massive whiskey induced headache
This time of year Santa brings barrels of steroid feed complete with a hazmat warning
Though the stuff is smoking when added to the ration, it keeps them flying from night to morning
Then the day after the great ride I’m charged with the responsibility and to go to any length
To nurse those worn out bug splattered prima donna reindeer back to their previous strength
Please don’t get me started on those crybabies with their belly-aching whiny personalities
Because with all the the yearly press they draw they think they’re A-list celebrities
First there is Donner, dumb as a brick but biggest by far assigned to be the team leader
But he’s always bleeting in that obnoxious nasal voice for more hay in his feeder
Next is Comet the fastest but without a special bit causes the sleigh to pull to the right
And being only slightly off course can cause entire countries to be missed while flying at night
Then the two divas Prancer and Dancer, be glad homes are playing music about mistletoe and holly
If the music were show tunes the neighborhood would awaken their bad rendition of Hello Dolly
In the harness next are the over sexed devious love birds Vixen and Cupid
Always sneaking out behind the spruces thinking we are blind and stupid
Santa still gets the Wichita parents’ stink eye because of the incident behind the toy sack
Observed by many, parents had to explain to their tykes the deer were playing piggyback
Lastly we come to Dasher and Blitzen both with bad attitudes and horrible goof offs
Their contribution to the team is trying to hog the feed as soon as it hits the troughs
Finally let me clear up one last enduring rumor, red nosed Rudolph doesn’t exist
I understand the statement is surprisingly harsh and people will no doubt be pissed
It all started years ago on takeoff Donner got his head stuck in some decorations
Once in the air there’s no turning back the radar is updated as Santa tags all the locations
Donner spent that entire night trying to shake a Christmas tree bulb out of his nose
An unsuspecting Santa was caught up in the myth and decided not to disclose
All the “had a very shiny nose” drivel sounds adorable in nursery school
And to state the truth publicly would be construed as callous and cruel
So I’m shining up the harness and bells getting ready for the big night
Just remember it’s me Pucki, who makes your days be “Merry and Bright.”