A poetic toast to Santa

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To the Editor:

It was the day after Christmas.

I was drinking a beer.

A knock at the door,

I wonder who’s there.

So I opened it up.

There was Santa holding a cup,

with a cute little wink, a face full of cheer.

I filled up his cup, he drank it all down.

I said to myself, is this guy a clown?

We drank till there wasn’t any more.

Asked Santa to go to the store.

Gave him money to buy more suds.

I didn’t care, Pabst or Bud.

Later, a police man appeared with a sigh,

Saying Santa was charged with a D.U.I.

Carl Spinelli
South Philadelphia

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