Holiday Cheer

This is an old piece, actually, when I was living in my apartment and having trouble with my neighbors. I tweaked it a bit--it could still sort of apply today. Poetry, it ain't. But it beats holiday reruns.

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through my flat
No food to be found (just as well--getting fat).
The presents were wrapped up next to the fire,
Held together with newspaper and some cheap baling wire.
The woman was slaving over a hot, smoking stove
While I reclined comfortably, wriggling my toes.
I was about to apologize again for my gift
(She felt a new mop was sort of short shrift),
When all of a sudden the floor vibrated and thrummed--
I sprang from my chair, wondering if Saint Nick had come!
"I'll see what that noise is, dearest of dears,"
I shouted to Kim, who only shrugged and sneered.
Down the steps I bounded, taking two at a time:
Could it be Santy-Claus? That old pal of mine?
Alas, twas my neighbor, already caroling
With Hendrix on the stereo, and two cases of brandy.
"Hey butt-face, do you mind? This's a silent night!"
I intoned reasonably, which he took as a slight.
"Pal," he jeered, "you're a mere teacher of youths.
"You're an overpaid drudge, so now just face the truth.
"You're a joke in this building, a stain on our minds.
"Your breakfast a six-pack! Your dinner my wine!
"Tomorrow the rest of us schlep off to work,
"While you're watching cartoons, you Hawaiian-shirt jerk."
Then he flipped me off, and tossed me a coin.
He mooned me two times; and then grabbed his groin!
And I last heard him snarl (after yelling, "Get bent!"),
"Go read a book or something. Leave Christmas Eve to real men."