there must be seasonal employees at the North Pole

The elves have got the sled all ready

There are new elves this year,

meet Lou, Mike and Eddie.

Lou has gotten tired and slack

from repacking the merch that I've sent back

so the pace is set by happy Mike

who zooms around on an unsold Target collaboration bike.

He's not embarrassed to be seen

on transport in purple, pink and green:

If it hasn't sold, they eat it or wear it.

That's why the elves are covered in glitter

but a diet of fruitcake has not made them bitter --

if you're part of the elf crew, you learn to bear it.

The rejects are sorted by brave little Eddie,

who works with eyes closed and fingers unsteady

which is why we sometimes find

sad surprises in our boxes

mismatched plaids, stripes unaligned,

and not that cute sweater with the little foxes.

Another new face is the list-checker Schlepper.

His job's to keep track of who's naughty and nice.

He goes through every request and letter,

He reads them once, forgets them twice.

Oh, happy elves! Oh, temps of the season!

I'd join your carefree elfin dance

'mid cashmere fuzzes and fallen spangles,

if I only understood your reason

for sending me these positively miniscule green pants

which barely cover my shins and ankles.