Putting the X Back in Xmas

Ok, I'm in a bit of a rush. I've got to meet Scrooge & the Grinch for lunch, but I want to knock out this entry before I go. Thing is, I'd planned to introduce different poems of the holidays--Hanukkah, Xmas, Kwanzaa, Festivus--but while searching for a link to Charles Harper Webb's "The Death of Santa Claus," one of my favorites, I discovered a plethora--plethora, what a fun word--of sites when I Googled the title.

To be honest, I sure as hell don't feel like sorting through the seasonably schmaltzy tripe to find other smartly crafted work. Rather, given my limited time, I'll provide a selection of links gleaned from my search, beginning with, by way of a segue from the Webb poem, this apt photo.

Want an obituary to accompany it? Sorry, wrong link. Try this. Wait, that's not it either. Dammit, here!

Too real? Perhaps you'd prefer an editorial which explores the death of the Santa myth. Or maybe a story or two--eh, sort of.

Actually, since this a poetry blog, you no doubt hope Santa's substantial sack overflows with versified goodness to stuff your always alliterative stocking with. But as the old chestnut, roasted or otherwise, warns: be careful what you wish for. Like the time you'd asked for an HO slot car set--it's what you really, really wanted--but you got a crappy model train set instead, not even a Lionel, but some cheapo-cheapo N gauge knockoff manufactured by Acme. Ok, that's not the best example, but I'm still pissed.

Anyway, here you go, kaff, poetry lovers. Happy "elfin" holidays.

Comments

Riley said…
Hopefully, Aaron doesn't read your blog or he'll get the idea that Santa doesn't exist. Shhh.