(Poe, The Raven, 1845)
Once
upon an Advent dreary,
While I wandered bleak and
bleary
Over many a crude and crowded
mile
Of department store,
As I wrest a roll of
wrapping,
Energy within me sapping,
Tired of fighting all their
trapping
Trapping me to spend some
more.
"I won't buy but this," I
muttered,
"Wrapping at this blasted
store
Only this and nothing more."
Only then did I remember
'Twas the fourth week of
December,
And each separate day did
number
To my horror
twenty‑four;
No time could I beg or
borrow,
Christmas day would come
tomorrow,
Think how great would be my
sorrow
Sorrow if the toys I bore
Failed to awe my radiant
children
Would they think my gifts
were poor
And so hate me evermore?
Suddenly my guilt grew
stronger;
I could shop a little longer,
Though to add debt to my
credit cards
Already I'd foreswore;
Yet, I'd buy more than this
wrapping:
PC games, opponents
strapping;
Robot dog with ears
a‑flapping,
Lapping water from the floor;
And a doll that does the
mambo,
For my youngest to adore.
That was it, though, nothing
more.
Back into the maelstrom
turning,
All my guilt within me
burning,
Soon again I heard the
tapping
As the sales clerk tallied
more,
"Surely," I said, "surely
this is...
Something in your store amiss
is,
For, you see, each price
that's here is
Twice as much as 'twas
before."
But the sales clerk simply
shrugged
And waited for me to fork
o'er;
Stood and shrugged, and
nothing more.
Open there I flung my card
fold,
Then retrieved my Master
Charge Gold,
Warm still from my day of
shopping,
Buying Christmas gifts
galore,
Swiped my card the clerk then
did he,
Shook his head, but not in
pity,
Said my card was maxed out,
That I couldn't use it,
furthermore,
Stood and said, "I need
another card
Or cash...or there's the
door."
Told me that, and nothing
more.
Startled by the words he'd
spoken
(Could my credit line be
broken?)
"Doubtless just a glitch of
software
In the network of this
store."
This I said to stem disaster,
Then to show him I was
master,
Handed over Visa card
Its limit was a little more
Thinking, after holidays,
I'd no more shop this horrid
store.
No, never, nevermore.
Then the clerk commenced his
swiping,
As my brow I was a‑wiping,
Hoping that consumer
confidence
To me he would restore,
But the Visa was no charmed
card
Sales clerk, summoning an
armed guard,
Told him to politely discard
Me at nearest exit door;
Told him to remove my
derriere
From this department store;
I could come back nevermore.
Only now am I admitting,
As bill payments I'm
remitting,
Possibly my Christmas
shopping
Went a little overboard;
With my credit, I'm not
clever
I'll be paying this forever,
Learned my lesson now,
however,
And will charge things
nevermore;
(Yet the After‑Christmas
sales
Are so good, how can I
ignore?
Just this once�then
nevermore.)
