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Monday, 26 April 2010 10:26

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Org
Not a PC was red-tagged, not even on the scheduling board.
The repackaged Basics were lined up with care
In the hopes that some public would soon be there.

The staff were all bunked up, hardly room in their beds
For the visions of freedom that danced in their heads.
And I with my meter, my sole source of means
Just having eaten a plateful of beans.

When out in the parking lot, there arose such a ruckus
My first thought was, “Ah-oh, who’s here to fuck us?”
Away to the scene, I ran real damn fast
Knowing if something was wrong, it would be my ass.

The smog and the fog, gave little to see
But then in the lot, an old car was rolling at me.
The closer I looked, I thought I could discern
It was pulled by eight RPFers with lessons to learn.

The driver was short, could hardly see over the wheel
His windpipes so small, his screams were more squeal.
I knew in a moment it must be the Cob
Shaking his fists, he’d come here to rob.

He leaned out the window, throwing curses my way
As he yelled at the staff who were pulling his sleigh.
Now Marty! Now Heber! Now Yager and Rinder!
On Mitoff! On Tommy! On Headley and Claire!
To the top of the graphs held up by thin air!
For the New Year’s event our statistics are there!

With a grunt and a pull despite being sore
They got the car over to the bookstore door
The back seat was full, overloading the wreck
Bright new releases, the latest lost Tech.

And then with a creak, a moan and groan
The staff braced itself and started looking forlorn
He opened the door and slipped out real quick
Surprised he didn’t fall, his shoe soles so thick

Dressed in all navy he looked like a sight
His brass was all polished and looked ready to fight.
Handmade Egyptian shirts he wore
Not the kind most anyone could buy at the store.

His eyes were glazed over with power and lust
He could break a man’s soul, his rank he could bust.
His troll little mouth was pursed and tight
The blood on his hands was hid by the night.

With the snap of his fingers, the world he could move
Short men want power, he had something to prove
A command over others, a girlfriend named Lou
His motto was money but debt for you.

He wasn’t real big, really more like an elf
I laughed when I saw him in spite of myself.
He muttered about staff’s lack of respect
But with empty orgs, what could he expect?

Then he spoke not a word but walked inside
Straight to cashbox to where the public did tithe.
He tilted the box and opened his bag
But there was no money, the staff were in rags

He cursed aloud then shouted out a plan
“A call to arms, shoulder to shoulder and man to man!”
Into the car, through the air he dove
Cracking the whip over those he drove.

As it started to roll, I heard the staff moan
Hardly a man standing, they were very downtone.
But I heard him exclaim as they rolled out of sight
“Unprecedented expansion is ours tonight!”

Written by Cowboy Poet



# Ex GEM 2010-04-26 11:39
# Maxim 2010-04-27 13:24
Thanks for the laughs.
# PoetLaureate2012 2012-04-30 02:06
(And The Aims of Scientology)

A nursery rhyme - a flying dance
A healing church bell rings
Emotions rise, the heart complies
The soul discovers wings

A painter paints - a planet blooms
Music eases the passing of time
A child’s voice – a melody
A two lover’s rhyme

Without these there is No! No!
No! Civilization to salvage

Poet Laureate
4 – 30 – 2012
Corollary: “ARC is a joy to behold.”

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