‘Twas the night before Eviction, Steve Elliot

‘Twas the night before Eviction, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even the louse;

The sheriff was coming the next morning to serve

Eviction papers, lock out, and set-out to the curb.

The tenants, I grumbled, all snug in their beds,

No thoughts of the pending set-out in their heads.

Ma and myself in bed set the clock

For the morn, but soon awoke with a shock.

When out on the lawn there ‘rose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what’s the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Peeked through the curtains and raised up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,

When, what to my astounded eyes should I see,

But a pick-up truck, 2 guys, a TV!

The tenants were moving out in the night!,

I just had to watch, it was such a sight.

More rapid than eagles those guys moved that junk,

They stacked it all up high in the truck;

“Now, Jimbo! Get the TV! now, Larry the couch!

Mary, get kids dressed and out of the house!

Put it out on the porch! Take it to the hall!

Come on now, we can’t take it all!”

Like raccoons at night when they raid your trash,

Those tenants were trying to take all their stash.

So pile it up they did, come what may,

Those tenants were leaving ‘cause they wouldn’t pay.

And then, in a second, I heard in the yard

The groaning and straining of that tub of lard.

Never before had he done so much work,

As he carried those things, I just had to smirk.

He was dressed in his beer shirt, 2 sizes too small,

And his pants looked as if they may just fall.

A stack of large boxes slung on his back,

When he turned round, atop pants was a crack!.

Oh, he moaned – it was great!

He worked fast though twas late!

His nasty mouth cursed through his work,

Watching him labor! Nice for a jerk!

The butt of a cig held in his jaw loose,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a noose;

That slob of a man with his huge belly,

That shook, as he moved like a bowlful of jelly.

He loaded the dresser, the stove, and the shelf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;

This guy was “disabled” – Could not mow the grass,

Which now lay quite dead, he was such an ass!

He didn’t dawdle. No, now he worked quick,

And filled up the truck; and laid it on thick,

His wife and the kids, they piled it high,

’Til the stack of junk reached up toward the sky

It teetered and tottered as they went on their way,

I was finally rid of that bum who won’t pay!

But I heard him exclaim, as he climbed in that Ford,

“Happy Christmas to all, you xxxxing slumlord!”

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *