Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was working, not even Twitter's mouse
The Bank Deposit Slips were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that The Wall funding, would soon would be there
The child was nestled all snug in his bed
While visions of inheritance danced in his head
Mamma in her 'I really don't care' nightie, and DT in his cap
They'd settled their brains for a long winter's nap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
They sprang from the bed to see what was the matter
Away to the window they flew like a flash
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below
When, what to their wondering eyes was this mayhem
But a miniature sleigh, and eight drunken Dems
With a little old driver, so lively and squirmy
They knew in a moment it must be Ole Bernie
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Chuck! now, Nancy! now, Biden and Beto!
On, Cory! On NAFTA and of course on NATO!
To the top of the porch! TO HELL WITH YOUR WALL!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
Sorry, kinda. Not really,
By Henry Gibson
Love, Victurd
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