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‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the town,
people were hurried, all rushing around.
 
Decorations were hung on the street lamps with care
in hopes that no drunks would urinate there.
 
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of rebels danced in their heads;
 
The adults were all settled, PBR in hand.
Listening to tunes on the stereo so grand.
 
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
 
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tripped over the dog to form a large gash.

.
With blood flowing freely I moan in pain,
The alcohol buzz fading as I claim my distain.
 
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Reminded me that I still had some strong blo.
 
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
8 baying hounds and a keg full of beer.
 
It was placed in the back of my large 4×4 truck,
Standing nearby a surly man who didn’t give a fuck.
 
He hollored and stammered like a drunken bafoon,
Screaming, bombed after leaving downtown’s saloon.
 
More rapid than eagles his curses they came,
He whistled, shouted, and called hounds by name;
 
“Now, Thrasher! now, JD! now, Mary Jane and Mixer!
On, Whiskey! on Hash! on, Eggnog and Elixer!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now chase away! chase away! chase away all!”
 
So onto the porch, the dogs did fly,
chasing the cats, with a howling cry.
 
One under the porch and one on the roof,
It was then that I grabbed a bottle of 141% proof.
 
I stumbled downstairs and flung open the door,
The old guy in the yard kept yelling some more.
 
Out in the truck I spied the tap glistening,
to old country tunes I was loudly listening.
 
As I got a beer he approached to sit,
then to my wonder I exclaimed “Holy Shit!”
 
Tall and gaunt, I recognized the face. 
The missing member, the Opry’s disgrace.
 
Hank Williams Sr. then stood at my side. 
My eyes tearing up, and glistening wide.
 
I handed him my bottle, a long swig he took.
He then turned away with a last piercing look.
 
As I tipped my hat and took the last shot,
He smiled, walked away and hollered, “”Forget Me Not”.

— by Dana Cormaney