Politically Correct Version
(With Apologies to Clement Clark Moore)

Twas the night before Christmas, or to offend none at all,
The eve of a mid-winter gift-exchange haul.

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,
Which were not deemed as pests, but were guests in this house.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
But no fire was ablaze to pollute the night air.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of tofu danced in their heads.

My life partner in gown, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I slipped on my Birks to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
In hopes a poor creature was not in my trash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below,

And I wondered aloud, at this image so charming,
Will these scenes disappear on a globe that is warming?

Then suddenly, what to my eyes should appear,
Than a red-suited man, oppressing eight flying deer.

They were harnessed and forced to obey his command,
I wished PETA had been there to make a demand.

Though the notion of "Christmas" was long since passé,
As I watched, I recalled an old myth of that day.

A full-figured resident of the North Pole,
Would travel the world in a generous role.

He'd hop house-to-house, a courier, of sorts,
Like the UPS man, but without the brown shorts,

And bring gifts to children, with no cost or fee,
And place them all under an evergreen tree.

The myth was unfounded, as far as I knew,
But with what I was seeing, could it be true?

And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The prancing and pawing of each abused hoof.

He came down the chimney, but stopped short I fear,
The damper was closed, we conserve around here.

When he finally got past the damper restriction,
There stood before me what I thought had been fiction.

I said, "Are you St. Nick, of legend so old?"
He said, "Yes," but in a voice not very bold.

"The kids used to love me, both far and wide,
Then controversy came, and I just had to hide."

"The lawsuits piled up, it's quite clear to see,
They said that my actions were just not PC."

"The name of St. Nick once made little hearts tingle,
But 'Saint' sounded religious, so I switched to Kris Kringle"

"The smoke from my pipe, once encircling my head,
Is now a health hazard, the government said."

"I was once fat and jolly, my round cheeks had a dimple,
But health nuts feared kids would follow my example."

"They said fat's unhealthy, and is no longer nifty,
So I started to work out, and can now bench two-fifty."

"They said that the gifts I gave good girls and boys,
Were unfair to the naughty who also want toys."

"They said I caused trauma, it was really quite sad,
To bring gifts to good children, but not to the bad."

"A psychologist once told me, kids are not bad or good,
They're all little angels, some just misunderstood."

"My red and white fur that I once held so dear,
Was ruined by a nut case with spray paint one year."

"So I've gone polyester, and it's quite hard to tell
That it's not really fur, but it itches like... heck!"

"It's too hard to remember, for an old man like me,
The new names for Christmas, to make it PC."

"Is it Winter Break? Kwanzaa? I really can't say,
Maybe Hanukkah? Solstice? Or even Boxing Day, eh?"

"The gifts that I bring, though free to each tot,
Are scrutinized now to see if PC they're not."

"I brought dolls for the girls and trucks for the boys,
But N.O.W. said I was sexist in selecting these toys."

"That's only the start, it's been quite a rough journey,
If a kid was upset, his folks called an attorney."

"Animal rights groups opposed my giving kids pets,
They said hamsters and puppies may end up at the vet's."

"Any armed forces toys, whether air, land or seas,
Are off limits now, absent WMDs."

"Cap guns promote violence, toy knives are too scary,
Grenades and bazookas make PC folks wary."

"Instead, they want kids alone in their rooms,
Playing nice peaceful games, like "Mortal Kombat" or "Doom."

"Skateboards are a menace, Rollerblades promote falls,
Football may cause an injury, as can bats and balls."

"Learning toys may be biased, sports promote competition,
And Barbie can cause a self-image condition."

"It's become so bad, that I no longer care,
All I've left now are socks and new underwear."

"Of course all the children think this is a crock,
After all, who asks Santa for a crummy old sock?"

As he went to his work, placing new BVDs,
I just had to ask, so I said, "If you please…"

"Why must you use reindeer in this new modern age,
When airplanes and rockets are more of the rage?"

"I fear that you'll hurt them, I really don't like it,
They need a good session with our local pet psychic."

"Baloney," said Kringle, his eyes flashing bright,
"In a whole year they have to work only one night."

"The rest of the year, they're not worth a dime,
And tease my poor elves, who must work all the time."

"And isn't the environment a big worry today?
They produce no emissions, and run on just hay."

Then back up the chimney he rose like a bird,
Jumped into his sleigh, and had the last word.

"I've had quite a time keeping Christmas alive
It takes your belief to make the day thrive."

"Christmas Day can be magic to both young and old,
Don't let PC win, you have to be bold."

"Proclaim that it's Christmas to folks near and far,
And be happy and peaceful, wherever you are."

Then I heard him exclaim, as he took off again,
"Tell them Santa is back, bringing socks to all men!"