‘Twas the night before Saturday, as I sat in my house;
I was surfing the net, with the aid of my mouse;
The garage sales were listed on Craigslist with care;
In hopes that customers soon would be there.
While everyone was sleeping in their secondhand beds,
Visions of treasures danced in my head;
With cursor a’clicking, and a pen in my hand;
I wondered what estate sale would be making me stand.
A sale had a baseball game (missing a batter),
Another had a rare Fransciscan platter;
So early the next morning, I drove out in a flash,
In hopes that the day’s finds were more than just trash.
The light of the streetlamp two streets from the sale,
Helped light the way to 240 Scarsdale;
When, what to my wondering eyes did I see,
Not a soul was there yet, I was it, it was just me!
My reading glasses,money, and purse I grabbed quick;
I knew in a moment they’d be packed in here thick;
More rapid than greyhounds, the cars they all came;
They grabbed, and they snatched, and called the owner by name.
“How ’bout 50?! How ’bout 40? How ’bout 30 or 10?
It’s chippy, It’s cracked, I think it’s broken!
What’s that on the porch? Grab it off of the wall!
I’ll pay cash today! Check today! Cash takes it all!”
While watching the objects in the house seem to fly,
I was impressed with the people who came there to buy;
Up to the checkout card table they flew;
With armloads of stuff and some big boxloads too.
And then, in a moment, as I turned around;
I couldn’t believe at what I had found;
I put down my purse, and a big ball of string;
And looked at the man painted on this huge thing.
He was dressed all in leather, it was shockingly white;
And his clothes were all sequined, and rhinestoned, and TIGHT!
A bundle of wires lay flung on the ground,
Connected to a microphone that projected his sound.
His eyes — how they squinted! His hair..oh how hairy!
His sweat was like raindrops, his physique like Drew Carry;
His famous two lips were drawn up in a sneer;
And the artist used glitter to outline his rear.
The handle of the mike he held tight in his hands;
And the smoke in the room blown out by the fans;
He had a broad face and a good size round belly,
That shook, when he danced like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right handsome old dude;
And I laughed when I saw this, without being rude;
Picturing this nailed right above my twin bed;
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
I spoke not a word, but went straight to the door;
And gave them my money, just like at a store;
And laying my picture inside of my van;
I gave a “thumbs up” to myself and “The Man”.
I jumped in my ride, and laughed as I drove;
And away I did fly to my next treasure trove;
But they could hear me exclaim, as I drove happily:
“If you want the cool stuff, you better be quicker than me!”
Late Night Coffee ~Christmas 2010