"Twas the Night Before Invertebratemas"
M. Rock, 2010
Twas the night before Invertebratemas, when all through the house
Not an invert was stirring, not even a sea mouse.
The waders were hung to dry with care,
In hopes that St. InvertNick soon would be there.
The grad students were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of theses danced in their heads.
And Whitney in her PJs, and me in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.
When out on the bunny lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my sleeping bag to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the blinds and threw up the sash.
The moon on the droplets of new-fallen rain,
Gave the luster of foggy midday to the scene.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature ROV and eight tiny invert-deer.
While a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. InvertNick.
More rapid than salmon his coursers they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name!
“Now Annelida! Now, Mollusca! Now Arthropoda, now Porifera!
On Sipuncula, on Ctenophora! On, on Echinodermata and Cnidaria!
To the top of the dock! To the top of the intertidal!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
As dry algae that before the wild storm fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the lab-top the coursers they flew,
With the ROV full of gear and St. InvertNick, too.
And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof jambs,
The prancing and scratching of each little limb.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
Down the water pipe St. InvertNick came with a bound.
He was dressed all in Grundens, from his head to his pants,
And his Xtra Tuffs were all tarnished with algae and sand.
A bundle of equipment he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a scientist, just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like lobsters, his nose a salmon berry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a stipe,
And the beard of his chin was salty and white.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a round little belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a mass of egg jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly professor,
And I smiled when I saw him; I expected no lesser!
A wink of his eye and twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And he filled all the waders, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the pipes he rose!
He sprang to his ROV, to his team he gave a whistling blow,
And away they all flew like marine snow.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he rode out of sight,
“Happy Invertebratemas to all, and to all a goodnight!”
So, night guys, I'm gonna go dream of inverts.
--m
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