You’ve got to take care of the “poor” men,
Like apartment supers and doormen,
Assistants then number in dozens,
And their uncles, their aunts and their cousins,
The ubiquitous garage attendant,
Who thinks he’s become your dependent,
Plus all the gofers and getters,
And the guys who deliver the letters;
They come running from every direction,
With their once-a-year loving affection,
And their subtle operandi modus:
“Merry Xmas to you. Second Notice!”