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Krampus Christmas

Twisted Christmas

Charles Suddeth

He is hairy, his beard down to his waist,

He has billy goat’s horns and cloven hooves.

His forked tongue pokes through wolf fangs,

He is nonother than Hillbilly Krampus.

 

 

He drags long chains, flicks his whip,

Clangs the devil’s dingy dinner bell,

Carries a burlap poke on his back,

Fills it with bad, little boys and girls.

 

He drives a rickety old wagon,

Pulled by eight ornery mules,

All splay-footed and flop-eared,

Braying and bawling and belching.

 

He has his certain little helpers,

Trolls and ogres and gnomes,

If you see any of them coming,

You had better start running.

 

If you’re a good, little boy or girl,

You really have nothing at all to fear.

But if you’ve been naughty and bad,

Old Saint Nick will never find you.

 

Krampus is trickier than a moonshiner,

The lucky ones, he drowns in the creek,

Still others get grilled and barbecued,

The unlucky ones get hauled off to Hell.

 

Now I believe in Santa Claus,

Always have, and always will.

Now of Krampus I have my doubts,

But I’m not taking any chances.

 

St. Nick, I’ve been good. Very, very good.

krampus

 

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