Twas the Night Before December 25th: Part Ii

but then with a sprinkling, i saw from our roof, a special santa had climbed up to ingest a bag full of mushrooms. sooner than later he did want to fly, and out into the open sky he went, then died. though his skull had been shattered, spread all over the cement, his clothes were impeccable, probably the best costume yet. he’d been carrying a bag whose contents we did peek, finding razor blade cookies & amphetamine treats. his eyes by our ankles, his teeth over there, his droll little still-smiling mouth caused one to stare, but his fake beard which had been torn, no longer white, glistened a deep maroon under the moon that night. we called the authorities, we swiftly left the scene, for a dead, once-tripping-santa, wasn’t going to ruin our evening. but the sun was soon rearing its ever ugly head, as all the lame high school wannabe vampires were nestling in their coffin beds. so after finishing off the k that we had between us, we bedazzled our way back onto a bus. coasting the road back to our abode, not aware of the way in which we lost all our clothes. laying there spent, in our birthday suits, we gazed out the window with our vision dilute. a new dark emptiness that didn’t seem right, would last till’ we started it all up again that night.