pane chant . 

Near the town's only graveyard, the dark mansion sits
Surrounded by wild-growing grass
And facing the street there are thirty-two windows
But one alone still has its glass.
It beams with warm pride at its less lucky mates
As it twinkles and shines all alone
And a sensitive soul might fancy it speaks
In a thin and self-satisfied tone: 

"I made the right choices
I took the right steps
My present success is my own.
I've no one to thank
But my foresight and brains
For the fruits that my planning has grown.
I rely on no man
For my unbroken face
I earned what I have; I'm self-made!
I've nothing to mourn,
And I've nothing but scorn
For the ones who go whining for aid:

(snidely)
"'Someone should do something
Someone should step in
If only somebody would see
I did as I should
I helped where I could
And now someone else should help me!
I hereby declare
That this world is not fair
And it's wrong that the innocent pay.
Somebody must bail
They can't let me fail
We're in this together, I say!'" 

With the winter approaching, a gang of young boys
Came biking by just before dark
And spying the window, they stopped where they were
And picked up some rocks for a lark.
"Watch my aim!" one boy shouted, as straight flew a stone
From a slingshot he kept in his coat
And it shattered the glass that sparkled alone
So no more did the last window gloat. 

"No one could predict this!
I did all I could
And in justice,
I should be okay.
This murderous clod
Was a sheer act of God
And that's nothing for which I should pay.
It's a sad day indeed
When the innocent bleed
For something no one could foresee.
I need help, and soon!
I've not changed my tune
For heaven's sake, listen to me! 

(plaintively)
"Someone should do something!
Someone should step in!
If only somebody would see
I did as I should
I helped where I could
And now someone else should help me!
I hereby declare
That this world is not fair
And it's wrong that the innocent pay!
Somebody must bail
They can't let me fail
We're in this together, I say!" 

(It seemed thus to sing, by the light of the moon,
On the night that the fortunate pane changed his tune.) 

--- ©2011 by Kip Williams No tune assigned
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While the twelve days of Christmas are still going on, here's a long-overdue omission from the site. It's our very own perennial holiday special, saluting the happy days of winter with some verses I wrote for Apatoons, back in the 1990s:

FREDDY THE SNOWMAN

Freddy the Snowman,

With his scarf of red and green

Didn't look too spry, but my oh my,

What a stone-cold death machine!

Freddy the Snowman

Murdered all the gang but me

With his eyes of coal and his evil soul

On a chilly killing spree!

There must have been a curse upon that rusty kitchen knife;

When Suzy put it in his hand, the snowman took her life.

(Ow!)

Freddy the Snowman

Was a child molester too,

And we heard him say, being dragged away,

"I'll be back, next year, for you!"

(Hackity hack hack, hackity hack hack,

Hacking hard and deep.

Stabbity stab stab, stabbity stab stab,

Kills you in your sleep!)

TTTO: Frosty the Snowman by Rollins and Nelson

New Lyrics ©2011 by Kip Williams

.

Radio

It's decades ago; I still recall this dream:

I'm standing at a picture window in the night

Across miles of snow, even and white

Bright pinpoints alternately fade and gleam.

Each one — I know this — is a radio station

Sending signals out through chilly air.

Every one a voice that asks "Who's there?"

Piercing darkness in my imagination.

My signal, too, flies on its way

I won't know where or if its journey ends

But hopefully its words will reach my friends

And if I'm lucky bring, to night, some day.

Signals wax and wane through winter night.

I can't see you, but I'm warmed by your light.

©2011 by Kip Williams

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Toon River Anthology
part 6

JULIUS DITHERS
Even though Cora was friends with Blondie,
She used to ask me why I didn't just fire him
And let him stay fired. He didn't get much done,
And he took long lunches and he goofed off
At his desk all day long. Oh, he was honest
But I couldn't trust him with any important work,
So I fobbed off the clients I didn't care about on him,
And let him reorganize the stock room from time to time.
Some of the board members mentioned him in meetings,
With pointed references to 'Dead Wood' and such,
And one even hinted that those little bits of hair that stuck out
Bore some kind of resemblance to my own. He didn't last.
A man can stand for just so much. No, he wasn't my son,
But I made a promise to J.B. when he disinherited the boy
That he'd always have a job at J.C. Dithers and Company
As long as he lived. I kept that promise, hard as it was.
But I never promised I wouldn't kill him, and one day I did.
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