Shopping season's soon to be

For goods beneath the Christmas tree.

Tomorrow we will see the floats

Made to sell those Macy's coats.

Santa Cash with Reindeer Check

Will, with joy, to wallet genuflect.

Cambridge, too, shares Yuletide glee

With bright red lights above the street.

Pious Chamber of Commerce,

Don't indulge yourself with remorse.

It's your holiday, of course!

All hail the Universal Bourse.

Oh, those merchants in the Square-

Happier souls there are nowhere.

Tis season to be jolly;

Registers ring like a trolley.

Apostle Gap, Saint Wordsworth,

Praise to you, our Heaven on Earth.

This metaphor must take note

Of Merchant sinners not remote.

Urban Outfitters, for one,

Sells only deconstruction.

Shape to clothes? Please, that's so old.

Customer help? Wrong place, we're told.

Have you bought your Christmas lights?

Never too early--don't be tight.

All cheer for the newborn king

Who, for his birthday, does us bring

Nothing less than retail pride,

A month before the sleigh does ride.