To the Jolly Man
This is for the man with the bag.
To the Jolly Man,
It’s April. I know you’re off from work.
I wrote this not knowing,
If I were a jerk.
To ask, where you are, “is it snowing?”
Anyway, I just wanted to say
You’re real in the sense
That you’re better in a way
That is a tense
Debate that you’re clearly the winner.
Jesus of Nazareth couldn’t compare
To aid any saint or sinner
That might be there.
Because sweat and blood and pain
Don’t ever match up to your joy.
You help with cheer to keep us sane.
I say this without being coy.
You’re the best gift
You create happiness with smiles.
You create uplift
With reindeer, toys, and racking of miles.
Your ideal exists and that's what counts.
You are the source of the good.
As the notion of you mounts,
You’re welcome in my neighborhood.
Sincerely,
A merry reveler still in the Christmas Spirit
About the Creator
Skyler Saunders
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Smartystan
Chanda sent home money every two weeks. In a small village in India, she deposited money into the bank account of her aunt and uncle who sent her to live in America. The place seemed so remote, almost cut off from the rest of the country. There, a festival took place where participants hurled cow eliminations at each other. The muddy, mucky sense of it had been known for centuries. Locals tied it to an ancient god who they believed restored people’s health with the cow plops. During the festival, thick patties passed through the air and smushed into the bodies and faces of those rollicking around in the filth.
By Skyler SaundersExclusive • 4 days ago
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