‘Twas the day before Christmas, when through comics’ hub
Not a creator was stirring, not even Jim Zub;
The issues were out, but the shops were pained,
In hopes that Star Wars fever soon would be waned;
The children were nestled all snug in their homes;
While visions of BB-8 danced in their domes;
And Latour in his zubaz, Brubaker in hat,
Had just closed their arcs for a short winter’s spat,
When out in the Twitter, there arose such a clatter,
Sprang from our feeds to see what was the matter.
Away to the screens, we flew like The Flash,
Tore open the #takes and did a Hulk smash.
The trolls on the breast of the Awakened flick,
Gave a bluster of garbage with things to nit-pick,
When what did our feeds so reveal via Vine,
But Hickman, Ribic and Secret Wars #9,
With a cosmic power and mask full of gloom,
We knew in a moment he must be Von Doom.
More delayed than Hawkeye, its conclusion it came,
Fraction whistled, shouted, and called them by name:
“Now, Brimpers! now, Stucky’s! now McKelvie and King!
Go, Bellaire! Go, Aaron! Go, Doyle comma Ming!
To the top of the charts! to that ComiXology!
Now take a hiatus! Make no apology!”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When the trades are released, mount to the sky;
So up to the deadline the creators they flew
With pages full of genres, and some Eisners too—
And then, in a Tweeting, we read on the net
The hemming and hawing of fanboys all wet.
As Staples drew Archie, and Hinkle his dong,
Snyder wrote Batman with a run that was strong.
Zdarsky dressed all in fur, in his Garfield suit,
And his scirpts were all tarnished with asses and coot;
A bundle of sextoys was flung on his back,
And he looked like a pedler just opening his pack.
His eyes—how they stared! his dimples, how scary!
His cheeks like a squirrel, his nose? Something to be wary.
Chip stepped aside since Gillen coerced,
His puns at the ready, we braced for the worst
He had a droll little mouth, quite the clever fella
Much to the chagrin of one Christopher Sebela;
Villalobos and DeConnick gritted their teeth,
Cloonan and Wu, their swords did unsheathe;
These puns must be ended, an insult to good taste
Matt Kindt stroked his beard, and laid Kieron to waste.
Pitarra and Burnham, those jolly old elves,
Drew like mad to ensure their books stayed on shelves;
With a wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Ryan Stegman said something, much to our dread;
Steve Orlando and Willow Wilson’s books continued to kill,
And BKV and Martin dropped another hit, pay-what-you-will,
Lumberjanes, Space Riders, Squirrel Girl, The Spire
There’s comics for all, any one can inspire;
Star Wars is trending, which makes sense after all;
But remember for a moment those comics still call.
As Yoda would say, “for everyone comics are”
Happy Christmas y’all! Next Con, we’ll meet at the bar.