[A casual reading of this piece may suggest that it is politically incorrect; in fact, it is, but not in the way it may at first appear to be. Each stanza is supposed to have four lines, but some of them are too long to post correctly; that means each short “line” is the end of the preceding line.]

The mall is fairly jumping and the background music’s playing
and the kids are in and out of everywhere
and the merchants have their goodies out and the shoppers
prowl for bargains and the oldies sense there’s something in the air

See the Season’s decorations, green and red and gold are garlanded
and the artificial snow is all prepared
and the Santa suits and the elves are out and the shoppers
sniff for the pricing drops and the babies’ cries are raising tempers there

Well a busker stands on the corner where he’s out of the way of everyone
and he plays his plaintive song of Silent Night
and he sings it in a ragged voice that sounds for the world so out of place
the security guard looks like he wants a fight

So the guard moves in and the crowd clears off—well the nerve of the guy
and his little cough to come to the mall and spoil a mood like that
So while the busker packs his stuff the security guard just pushes him out
to the cold before the guy can pass the hat

And it’s stories like that make the season bright and stoke the shops all through the night
and to heck with the poor and homeless filthy buskers
this darkling time of brotherly love is for the genteel turtle dove
so let’s not waste it on those dirty others.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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