'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS...Trump Style
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the White House
Not a creature was stirring, not even this Louse;
The Tax Scam was hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that gutting entitlements soon would be there;
The interns were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of “grab ‘em by the pussy” danced in their heads;
And Melania in her thong, and I in my steak and ketchup stained cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's bout of Fox News induced insomnia,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see if a militant Islamic terrorist was the matter.
Away to the window. because of red meat, I could barely dash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of teen beauty queen pageant contestants to objects below,
When, what to my perennially wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so slovenly and sick,
I knew in a moment it must be Steve Bannon....er, St. Nick
More rapid than eagles that attack me on video his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, POCAHONTAS! now, CROOKED HILLARY! now, LITTLE MARCO!
and LYIN' TED!
On, ROCKET MAN! on JEFF FLAKEY! on, CRYING CHUCK and LOW ENERGY JEB!
To the top of the porch! to the top of that big beautiful wall!
(that Mexico is still going to build)
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane in Puerto Rico that I didn't give a shit fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, like getting 60 votes in the Senate, mount to the sky,
So up to the White House-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of Secret Service guy's little hoof.
As I drew in my small orange hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in high luxury Ivanka brand fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of Trump Steaks he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler or a dangerous illegal immigrant just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The brim of a MAGA hat he held tight in his teeth,
And the stench it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of diet-coke soaked jelly.
He was chubby and plump, an ALT-right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of an inability to see humor myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread...except impeachment
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings with winning; then turned to face this Orange jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the mother of all missiles.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL STILL MERRY CHRISTMAS BECAUSE THIS IS AMERICA AND WE SAY MERRY CHRISTMAS IN AMERICA!
By Clement Clarke Moore with help from John Grochalski and Jesus Christ
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