Twas the night before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the Congress

Not a politician was stirring, not even the House Mistress


The earmarks were hung by the Congress with care

In hopes that Obama soon would be there.


The Conservatives were nestled all snug in their enclaves,

While visions of leadership danced in their dreams.


And McCain making mischief’ and Palin at home,

They had all just settled down for a long minority snap.


When out on the Rose Lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.


Away to Windows I flew like a flash

Tore open the Twitter and threw up the mash


The rage on the breast of the new-posted blog

Gave the illusion of normalcy to objects aglow,


When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature cabinet and eight tiny posers,


With a little bold driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be Daley’s young Schtick


More rapid than lobbyists his posers they came,

And he whistled and shouted and called them by name,


“Now Clinton! now, Richardson, now Daschle and a Chu

On Salazar! on Duncan! on, Solis and yes, Biden you too!


To the top of the House! To the top of the Congress!

Now shoe away, shoe away, shoe away all


As dry RINOs that before the principle fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, concede to the sky,


So up to the House-top the posers they flew,

With the black bag of tricks and Obama too.


And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little goof,


As I drew in my hand and was turning around,

Down the economy came with a bound,


He was dressed all in style, from his head to his toe,

And his clothes were all absent, nar a sash nor a bow,


A bundle of promises he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack,


His eyes – how dark and deep, his ears wiggled how scary!

His cheeks were sunken, his nose all runny!


His droll little mouth was drawn up and flat

And the jut of his chin, sharp and taut, pointed this way and that,


The stump of a cig he held tight in his teeth

and the smoke it encircled his head like a wraith,


He had broad ears and a trim little body,

That rippled when he laughed, or so I am told but not by many


He was a thin and wry, a left loony absorbed old self,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself,


A glare from his face, a twist of his hand,

Soon gave me to know, I had everything to dread,


He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work

And filled all the promises, then turned like a jerk,


And laying his middle finger aside of his nose,

And giving a sneer, up the chimney he rose,


He sprang to the cabinet, to his team gave a shout,

And away they all flew, full of cheer and ill mirth


But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

It’s all mine now, to all the Conservatives, good night....