A Christmas Poem

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the flat
I was all on my lonesome, except for the cat;
Earlier that evening, when I came home from work,
My girlfriend was waiting, just to call me a jerk;
She called me insensitive, she called me a lout,
She called her new boyfriend to help her move out;
Then before she left, just to "even the score,"
She flushed every cigar from my humidor.

With the Cigar Emporium closed and an Arctic wind blowing,
My girlfriend gone and my john overflowing,
I settled on the couch with my old cat Frisky,
With lots of self-pity and lots of Irish whiskey;
Because of the stress, or maybe because of the booze,
It wasn't too long before I started to snooze,

Suddenly, a commotion came out from out on the street,
A crash and a bang broke my snoozy retreat;
I went to the window and lifted the blind,
And seriously thought I was losing my mind;
On the street was a fat Gent all dressed in red,
With some funky looking reindeer pulling his sled.

Whether he was real or not, onward he came,
Whistling to his deer, calling each by his name,
"Now, Cohiba! now, Hoyo! now Monte and R.J.!
On, Bolivar! on, Ramon! on, Upmann and El Rey!
To the top of the stoop! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As if sensing my need for a little more proof,
Santa and his reindeer flew up to my roof.

Santa had noted my humidor was bare
and flew from the North Pole to end my despair,
St. Nick then handed me the most wonderful thing;
A 7-inch Grafton with a 54-ring
And as I watched him and the deer fly into the night,
I thought, "what a great Christmas, now who has a light?"