The Night Before Christmas -- for the Politically Correct

'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to "Elves",
"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.

The labor conditions at the North Pole,
Were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.
Four reindeer had vanished, with nary a clue,
Except the graffiti from "Wildlife Rescue".

And Equal Employment had made it quite clear,
That Santa had better use more than reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid,
Were replaced with four pigs -- and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous folks at OSHA.
And people had started to call for the cops,
When they heard sled noises on their roof-tops.

Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."
And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing for unauthorized use of his nose.

He went on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in overdue compensation.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd ne'er had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.

Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim. Nothing to shoot.

Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls, or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender-specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacifistic.

No candy or sweets -- they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and his boyfriend (better off hidden).

For they raised the hackles of those psychological,
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football -- someone could get hurt!
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.

Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passé;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, disheveled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.

He tried to be merry, he tried to be gay,
(But you've got to be careful with that word these days.)
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.

Something special was needed, a gift that he might,
Give to all without angering the left or the right.
A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;

Every ethnicity, and every hue,
Everyone, everywhere, perhaps even you.
So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth:
"May you and your loved ones enjoy peace on this Earth."