'Twas the night before Christmas,
when all through the house
So few of courage, and oh so many who act as a louse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney
With goodies for all and freebies for all who dare;
The children were nestled all snug
in the beds,
While their future's have been hurt and all but dead;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
ignored our care and are all over the map,
When out in the lawn there arose
such a clatter,
To accept another gov't check, that makes us fatter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
opened the letter, I need my cash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen
Bring us hope that it will bring us even more dough,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
image of my hero, Tom Daschle so near,
With a little old driver, so lively
He steals from the rich with not even a lurk.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
Give me more,
from THEM, and remember my name;
"Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now,
PRANCER and VIXEN!
On, FOOLISH! on STUPID! on, DUMBBELL and DIMWIT!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
all you can, it's a gift for you to spend at the mall!"
As dry leaves that before the wild
It's all gov't money not yours, and that is no lie,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
you want your share, be loyal and pay your due.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard
on the roof,
The sound of an obstructionist who acts aloof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
reasons we will still be kept in our bounds.
He was dressed in fur, from head
to his foot,
His manner was mind, while stealing all the loot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
it takes 60 votes to pass, of which you lack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled!
his dimples how merry!
If its not my way, you guys will never get your bill to carry!
His droll little mouth was drawn
up like a bow,
Let's be clear, us Democrats are really your foe;
The stump of a pipe he held tight
in his teeth,
You will never get real help, from the gov't elite;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
American can't feed at this deli.
He was chubby and plump, a right
jolly old elf,
You need us to live, we won't let you do it yourself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of the head,
us know he is a man, who bring only dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight
to his work,
Fleecing your pockets and hitting you where it hurts,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
the middle digit and continues to hose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his
team gave a whisle,
There are many more programs that have yet to fizzle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out
"Happy Xmas, without US, you cannot have a Good Night!"
SARTRE - December 20, 2001