Thursday, December 24, 2009

vid: Santa Ran a Backhoe

poetry by Larry C. Simpson, author of The Lost Cave of the Jaguar Prophets.

Larry: "I don't usually write country songs or Christmas songs or otherwise schmaltzey stuff, but I kept hearing the voice of Kris Kristofferson past in my head."

Santa Ran a Backhoe

Santa ran a backhoe
and sometimes chewed tobacco
until he got too sick and lost his job.

The whiskey took away the pain
but sometimes made him go insane
and the neighbors sometimes had to call a cop.

Santa had a pickup truck
He remembers how he once got stuck
while hunting deer up on the rocky creek.

When his father tracked him down
and saw the bottles on the ground,
he got so mad he couldn’t even speak

Now his own son’s in rehab
and his daughter’s in Iraq
but they both tried to be just like their Pa.

He has three grandchildren
but he never gets to see them
since his ex-wife took them back to Arkansas.

Santa lost some friends he’d known
in the bloody combat zone
and left some of his soul in Viet Nam.

Santa had his house foreclosed
and walks through town just like a ghost
wondering why the banks don’t give a damn.

He’s king of the shopping mall
with elves and snow and lights and all,
a white beard and a bright red uniform.

But he once dug the footers
for the banks and stores and Hooters
And before that it was all just fields of corn.

He wonders what it was worth,
all the hardship, time and hurt.
Then a little girl climbs up into his lap.

First he says his Ho-Ho-Hos
then asks what she wants the most
And all she says is bring me back my Dad.

He’s gone to this funny land
that no one seems to understand
where people hurt each other just for spite.

Santa said, I’ll do my best.
Little girl you must be blessed.
You’re the angel that saved my life tonight.

copyright 2009 Larry C. Simpson

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