A Visit From Banksy

A Very Banksy Christmas

If you’re on our mailing list you will have already received this, but for everyone else, here is our Banksy version of the famous festive poem A Visit From Saint Nick, otherwise known as ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas.

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the ‘hood
Not a creature was stirring, and all for the good;
The spraycans were placed in a holdall with care,
In hopes that a wall would no longer be bare;
The aerosols were nestled all snug in their beds,
The greens and the blues, the yellows and reds;
And Banksy in a hoodie, adds spraypainting caps,
And a couple of stencils, then does up the straps,
When out in the street there arose such a clatter;
Banksy sprang to the window to see what was the matter,
Outside the house, flashing blue and red lights,
Sirens a-wailing, and off into the night;
The moon shining down on the new fallen snow,
Gave vigour to Banksy, whose eyes now aglow,
Went out into the streets, and did pick up the pace,
Still seeking a wall in a suitable place,
In a van with a driver so lively and quick,
With scaffolds and tarps, like a street art St. Nick;
More rapid than eagles his helpers they came,
And he whistled and whispered, and called them by name,
“Now, Dasher!  Now Dancer!  Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet!  On, Cupid!  On, Donner and Blitzen!
Raise up the scaffold, in front of the wall!
Now dash away!  Dash away!  Dash away all!”
As leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
The scaffold all wrapped up with tarps to the sky;
And up on the ladders, the helpers they flew,
With bags full of aerosols, and Banksy too,
And then, in a moment I heard at the wall,
The hissing of spraycans, no tags being scrawled,
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Out from the scaffold, Banksy came, with a bound;
Dressed like a monkey, from head down to toe,
Clothes now all tarnished, from paint that had flowed;
All the used stencils concealed in a sack,
And still keeping watch lest the coppers attack,
Eyes, how they twinkled!  And chimp mask, how merry!
Cheeks made of rubber, lips the colour of cherries!
A droll little mouth, drawn up like a bow,
And bulging round eyes, as white as the snow;
The stub of a cigarette, held between teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled the artist like a wreath;
The mask it was wide, and it wobbled like jelly,
Not at all like the artists you see on the telly;
It was chubby and plump, a right jolly old imp,
And I laughed when I saw it, this face of a chimp;
A wink of the eye and a twist of the head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
Banksy spoke not a word, but went back to the work
Of refilling the van, then turned with a jerk,
And laying a finger aside of the nose,
And giving a nod, the van doors they did close;
Banksy sprang to a seat; to the team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle;
But I heard them exclaim, ere they drove out of sight –
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

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