Elf Stew

His creepy face is in the box,

It does no good to change the locks.

That pompous grin, those cheeks, THE EYES!

Nowhere to run, he’s much to wise.

Out of sight, but not of mind,

Against his will, he’s been confined.

He’s had months to plot and plan,

He’s built momentum, sold his brand.

Look around and you will see,

Where there’s one, there’s 603.

They’re multiplying, save yourself!

They’re everywhere, on every shelf.

Your newsfeed reeks of his control,

Reminders that he stole your soul.

He sucked you in from just one glance,

That goddamn smile, you had no chance.

Brought him home and praised his name,

Couldn’t wait to play his game.

A few days in and you got wise,

But it’s too late, you’ve told the lies.

You’re now his bitch till death do part,

And he can’t die, he has no heart.

You’ll do your job and stay up late,

Tell more lies, suppress more hate.

Lose sleep and wonder where he’s at,

You’ll cover up when in the bath.

For all you know, he’s watching YOU,

Those blinkless eyes, so fucking blue.

Days seem like weeks and weeks like years,

You’ll grow weak and cry real tears.

Where to go next, he’s been everywhere!

Take a deep breath and say a quick prayer.

On the fireplace mantle or atop the TV?

Sit tight while I go get your dumdum degree.

Compose yourself, THINK!  This isn’t a joke.

He’s laughing at you and just left for a smoke.

Snow angels, bubble baths, a date with a doll,

Don’t even consider that shelf on the wall!

Sky diving, road trips in Barbie’s pink jeep,

A tissue box fit for a king’s good night sleep.

You drink lots of wine and wish it away,

Then hear a faint whisper, “I’m ready to play.”

The kids hear it too and soon it begins,

You shut your eyes tight, but still see his sick grin.

You peek inside his cardboard dwelling,

His body language is quite telling.

He winks at you. That motherfucker!

And just like that you are the sucker.

Hooray, he’s back!  Look Mom, it’s true!

But why is he in our Christmas stew?

Won’t that hurt him, can he swim?

His face is boiling, where’s his grin?

We can’t eat him. He’s our elf!

He must have fallen from the shelf?!

Yeah, that’s what happened, he fell in.

Little stinker feeling chagrin.

Don’t worry kids, go back to bed,

He’ll be back once he clears what’s left of his head.

For tis the season to be jolly,

Fa lalalala MUAHAHA!

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