Santa From Atlanta Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

I saw Santa in town
he was strangely attired,
in a surgical gown
and his spirits seemed wired.

As the snow came down quicker
from a wintery sky,
there was one little flicker
it was all a fat lie!

So I rushed to the dunny
to sit down and relax
found a skinny old bunny
sending fax after fax.

Said the bunny, 'that Santa
who is roaming the street
is a doc from Atlanta
who is eager to meet

all the world's true believers
whom he promises much
soon a herd of dumb beavers
talk to reindeers and such.

When they're back at the Pole
his true colours appear
and the children he stole
start to shiver in fear.

For a few generations
he has honoured the shrine,
his bizarre operations........
it was Doc Frankenstein.

So, Virginia, start running
he will catch you, you know,
as a ruthless and cunning
puppeteer of this show,

he will make milk and cookies
out of humans like you,
with a gaggle of rookies
being trained as a crew.

So it pays to remember
that an old man in red,
even green, in December
when he comes to your bed,

is by nature not Santa
nor by his own name,
but a doc from Atlanta
with a scalpel of shame.

But Virginia, temptation
wears a nightgown of silk
let's reserve titillation
for our cookies and milk.