NIGHTMARE ON 34TH STREET: A XMAS GROTESQUE
Words + Music by Geordie McElroy
***
Part 1
What is the color of Christmas?
The white of untouched snow?
The green of a Douglas Fir
Or ceaseless mistletoe?
Could it be the red of stockings?
Or yule-log’s golden breath?
No. The color of Christmas is black
Black of a moonless winter's night
The black of coal in the abyss
The black of death
***
Koopman’s Department Store presents:
The 12 Days of Christmas
Grand Parade to city conveyed
This season big business
Announcer from Channel Thirteen
Mic picked up howling wind
Nor’easter of the century
From Greenland rolling in
Each float branded to perfection
Each with a sponsored theme
Franzenstein gingerbread houses
Toscani nativity scenes
They rolled along 34th street
Up to Koopman’s revolving door
Where Steve and his wife Portia throned
King and Queen of the store
A masterpiece of art nouveau
Engulfing block, tower
Dazzling retail cathedral
Where hard won coin showered
The windows full of season’s displays
Gorgeous crystalline glass
Each winter fantasies
Available for cash
Announcer spoke up: “Here she comes
It’s Mercedes Koopman
Steve and Portia’s only daughter
With her vocal debut”
The pre-teen rode high on a float
Promoting her own brand
Hawking neon fast fashion
And song without a band
Just as Mercedes started up
Before her vocals dropped
Announcer said: “Wait… here comes Santa Claus?
And he’s coming in hot”
Santa revved red convertible
Madness flashed in his eyes
He aimed full speed for Koopman’s store
Mercedes forced to dive
The crash destroyed the singer’s float
As Santa stripped his clothes
Revealing a Satan suit beneath
To the crowd he exposed
Something from out of his waistband
From crotch depth fustiness
He waved it around and yodeled:
“The hammer of justice!”
With hardware Santa Claus screaming:
“You bourgeois pigs must die
This one goes out to you, my Pearl”
Blue-haired girl averted eyes
He raised the groin-secreted tool
Shattered Koopman’s displays
Screamed about theory of labor
And radical cliches
Christian protestors turned their backs
So-called allies turned...