(11/27/1959) Greetings for a Cool Yule

Greetings for a Cool Yule
(“The Beatnick Mother Goose”)
Like, man …

It was the night before Yuletide,
And all through the pad
Not a beatmo had eyes
Not even old Dad.
The mice were all tucked
In their war surplus sack
And the Snowman was a’banging
The bongos, out back,
While me and my chick
Were hung out and loose
With our eyeballs in orbit,
Like a bugged Mother Goose.
When what should I screen
On my old radar set
But the high screaming whine
Of a low flying jet.
And out of the Night,
Which was frigid and black,
Came a red flannel Cat
With a pack on his back
And a horn in his hand,
Blowing wild on the breeze,
He was riding the needle
Like, “Cut out and freeze!”
He came on like a bomb,
Dropping straight from the rack,
And left skid marks all over
The top of my shack.
So I pull an Espresso
And invite the man in
And he says, “Like crazy, Dad,
Slip me some skin!”
Then I light up the pad
And we ball it up big
And he sits there, like cool, man,
Flipping his wig.
While the mice were all stoned
In their little round beds
With visions of cool jazz
In their hip little heads.
And we make with the Zen,
Like the sound of one hand,
And the voice of the cuckoo
Is heard in the land!
‘Till the wee hours have fled
Then he holds up the sack
And shakes down the goodies
For the mice in the pack.
A sax for the oldest.
A sip-blade for me (like Mack-the-Knife!)
A jolt for the Snowman
And bags of pure tea!
Then into the sandbox,
And he’s out like a light,
And he gives it the count-down
And blasts out of sight.
But before he can go, man,
I lift that white thatch
And dig those glazed eyeballs
In their little round hatch.
And there in the Night
Like a square on the kick,
Why, it’s smiling old Laughing Boy
“Jolly” Beat Nick!

Grady L. McMurtry

Originally published in Thelema Lodge Calendar, December 1987