By Rhys Hughes
Krampus on Campus Dear Admissions Tutor I am rather too mature a fellow to present myself to you in this manner (it is true) but I believe potentially I will have a bright future if you allow me to enrol at your university. And let me now explain the meaning of my name. Krampus the word derives from ‘claw’ and I am wearied by my seasonal chores which unlike those of Santa Claus involves punishing bad children instead of rewarding the good. I am hairy, my long tongue lolls and I have cloven hoofs. I leap across your roofs at night giving children such an awful fright! and this has been my role for years. To cap it all my head has horns. My appearance generally as you can see is hardly prepossessing but that’s how I was born. And now I’ve had enough! I want a change of career, no more nastiness and no more fear. I long to improve myself. Please permit me to enrol and achieve my goal, a Krampus on campus will be quite a boon to your noble institution. My essays will all be referenced properly with the correct attributions. I promise this! Yes, you can provide the solution to my woes! I write this letter with my talons crossed for luck. I have inspected your prospectus and the course I choose is “Mythology and Cultural Studies, modules one and two” and in advance I am thanking you. Sincerely yours, without a fuss, Krampus. P.S. What don’t you want for Christmas?
Once I was an Elf
Once I was an elf
(a real elf)
and I was proud
and strong.
I loosed my arrows
at dragons
and never thought
it wrong
to engage in battle
with my other foes,
the goblins
of the underworld.
How I miss
those ancient days
with their better ways
when mounted
on a flying horse,
a quiver on my back,
I soared above
the mountain peaks
that chewed the clouds
like demon fangs,
ready to attack!
Few back then
were quite so bold
and fewer still
so keen to seek
mighty new heroic deeds
to perform each week.
Caring not for
fame or wealth
while swooping
from the sky,
I defeated giant lizards,
evil wizards
and necromancers
for I was an elf
well versed in magic
with nothing tragic
about my circumstances.
But times changed
as they always do
and the age of wonders
passed away,
for even valour
and honour too
must eventually decay.
I fell on hard times
like all the elves
and sold my golden arrows,
cut short my hair,
lost my flying horse
and begged for work
everywhere,
cursing the worsening
of my situation
until at last I found a boss
willing to take me on.
The work is seasonal
and very hard
and now is the busiest
time of year.
I sometimes weep
as I recall how long ago
the good times were
when to be an elf
earned both respect and fear.
I have become
little more than a slave
in the modern world
and it is cold
so near the North Pole.
Yes, once I was an elf
(a real elf)
but now I am a mockery
of myself.
I slay dragons no longer
but every day
I just make toys
from a very long list
for girls and boys
who doubt I even exist.
Rhys Hughes has lived in many countries. He graduated as an engineer but currently works as a tutor of mathematics. Since his first book was published in 1995 he has had fifty other books published and his work has been translated into ten languages.
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