Twas the move before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, except the computer mouse;
Eight Digital TVs were hung on the walls with precision care, Six 55s and two 75s with booming stereo all around with reverbridge;
The Red Mercedes Benz and silver Porsches parked snug in their six car garage,

While visions of the playoffs danced in their heads;
And mamma in the sauna, and I with my TV control,
Had just settled down to the football bowl,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the lounge chair to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Opened the garage and dragged out the carboard and trash.
The silver Porsches glittered in the neon light
Gave the lustre to the Mercedes Benz and the chrome bright,

When, out of the Cheyanne what should appear,
But a Frank Frank with his tool box and gear.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Frank.

Slowly the Cheyanne backed to the garage,
And he hustled and loaded cardboard and garbage;
Each room left clean and neat
The walls all painted egg shell and wheat

And the bathrooms had boxes of Diamond Matches;
Air fresheners placed with strategic care.
Boxes of tools carried from room to room and back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening each pack.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And installed all the blinds, and towel hangers,
And laid his tools, neatly in his kit,
And giving a nod, out the door he went;

He sprang to his Cheyanne, his trusty rusty GM stead,
And away he drove with a pocket full of green back Benjies indeed.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

Frank Doonan
Orange Dog Poet