‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the land,
Not a Trumpette was stirring, not even a Trump.
The country was in fear, but the Trump had no care,
As he dreamt about the cash that would soon be there.
The folks were fearful nestled in their beds,
With visions of turmoil dancing around their heads.
They wrestled with nightmares of fear that ran the land,
Because they all knew – he soon would be in command.
When out of nowhere there arose such a clatter,
Trump sprang to his feet to see about the matter;
Away to the clatter, the Donald flew like a flash,
Tore open the doors revealing the cash.
But the clattering of reality set upon his brain,
The fear that soon he would rule the terrain,
Across the land that feared his brain;
But the Donald had much coin to gain.
Before Donald’s eyes should appear,
But dollar bills, so large, he understood in a lick,
That money had to be made,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called his crew by name;
“Now Ivanka! now, Eric! now, Donald, Jr. and Tiffany!
On Kellyanne! on, Corey! on, Bannon and Flynn!
To the cash we run! to the top of the pile we jump!
Now grab away! grab away! grab away all!”
And then, in a twinkling, Donald heard on the horizon,
The prancing and pawning of each deplorable rejoicing,
In glee at the utopia about to be revealed.
But the scam had been unleashed.
Donald had an army, an army he ordered with Twitter fingers,
From his phone, he unleashed his zingers,
Upon those he wanted to expel,
From his land, even those working his hotel.
I sat in a stupor, shocked at the reality, that soon I might be the deportee,
In sea of people wallowing in the reality,
That a catastrophe was soon to be launched by the nominee.
I sat in despair hoping it was but a dream.
But the Donald was dressed all in glitter, from his head to his foot,
Money tarnished the utopia that had been afoot;
A promise here, a promise there, was part of the congresses,
Although, each fleeted away as soon as money erased the promises.
His eyes – how they twinkled! his dimples how they danced!
His cheeks were all plump, his hands so small!
He had a broad face and a round belly,
That jiggled full of coin, like a bowlful of cha-ching!
He was chubby and plump, a right old jolly swindler,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of being a prisoner;
A glint of malice in his eye and a twist of fate,
Soon gave me to know that the fear was great.
He spoke of change, but with a smirk,
He filled his pockets and then turned with a jerk,
And giving a nod, he unleashed his twitter army to disarm me;
All because I dared to challenge his right to lead!
He sprang to his tower, to his team he gave a whistle,
And away they launched their twitter missiles!
But I heard him exclaim, as the elevator doors closed,
“Happy Christmas to all, except to those that oppose!”
Merry Christmas everyone! May 2017 by everything you ever wanted!
* liberally borrowed from A Visit from St. Nicholas by Clement Moore.