'Twas the night before Allston Christmas & all through Beantown
not a six-pack was stirring, for they'd all been down'd.
The U-Hauls were parked & loaded with crap
under the windshield a parking ticket flap'd.
Students lay exhausted, mattress on the floor
towel and toothbrush in a box by the door.
The parking cops & meter maids holstered their books
while the landlords cashed in their checks, like crooks.
Sunrise on the Charles shone down on a clatter
a wrecked moving truck causing a Storrow disaster.
To the vans! The hungover students crawled
on the sidewalk their boxes and trash bags were sprawled.
As if they had never driven before
these students swerved wildly from door to door.
Down Comm Ave, down Beacon, past Harvard, to Cleveland
Circle they dash'd, forgetting all reason.
Up stairs and down, they haul their possessions
happily rid of old roommate obsessions.
Fretting the deposit, return the U-Haul in haste.
Then, suddenly, there's a whole afternoon to waste.
To the packie they run, narrow streets they explore
sidewalk treasures infested with bedbugs and more.
Broken speakers, some records and a really ugly lamp.
What the heck is a Couger Mellencamp?
Wandering, they're lost, Allston is so confusing.
Do you remember what T stop we're using?
Checking their phones, they're lost in Brookline
so they take the trolley from Coolidge to the B-line.
Back at the house, toss some plates in a cabinet.
Did anyone remember to set up the internet?
No movies to watch, no memes to enjoy
to the front porch, the stoop, and sidewalk they deploy.
Drinking beer. More beer! and pizza aplenty
Wait! Did you just tip the driver a twenty?
Exhausted, they wave as he drives out of sight
It's Allston Christmas, brah! I'm getting stupid tonight!!!