'Twas the Day after Christmas

'Twas The Day After Christmas 

David Frank

'Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house 

Children sat slack-jawed, bored on the couch.

Wrappings and toys littered the floor, 

An incredible mess that I did abhor.

With Mom in her robe and I in my jeans, 

We waded in to get the place clean.

When suddenly the doorbell: it started to clatter, 

I sprang to the Security-View to check out the matter.

The new-fallen snow, now blackened with soot, 

Was trampled and icy and treacherous to foot.

But suddenly in view, did I gasp and pant: 

An unhappy bill collector and eight tiny accountants.

The door flew open and in they came, 

Stern-looking men with bills in my name.

On Discover, on Visa, on American Express, 

On Mastercard too, I sadly confess, 

Right to my limits, then beyond my net worth, 

OUer the top I had charged, in a frenzy of mirth.

The black-suited men, so somber, so strict, 

I wondered why me that they had first picked.

They stared at me with a look I couldn't miss, 

That said "Buddy, when are you for paying for this?"

I shrugged my shoulders, but then I grew bolder, 

Went to the cabinet and pulled out a folder.

"As you can see," I said with a smile, 

"It's bankruptcy that I'll have to file!" 

And with a swoop of my arm, my middle digit extended 

I threw the bills in the fire: the matter had ended.

The scent of burnt ash came to my nose, 

As up the chimney my credit-worthiness rose.

Without another word they turned and walked out, 

Got into their limos, but one gave a shout: 

"You may think that's the answer to all of your fears, 

But it's nothing you'll charge for at least seven years!