Wednesday, December 2, 2020

'Twas the Night Before the Inauguration

 It was the 19th of January and in the White House

Not a thing had been readied, not even a blouse

Not a tie had been packed, not a shirt had been folded
Don't dare touch a thing, the fat man had scolded 

I will not be leaving, I'm going nowhere
I'm staying in place and I don't really care
If jolly Saint Biden thinks he's taking my place
Well I will not go for I won the race

I counted the votes by myself, every one
It took a few days but I got the job done
And when I was finished, well, you know the score
It was plenty for me, sleepy Joe three or four

They can come down the chimney or through the front door
They can come with their stockings to put in the drawer
They can come with a budget, they can come with a plan
But I won't be moved, for I am the man

Neither rain, sleet or snow so the post office motto
Neither I nor Melania will be moved from this grotto
I'm like Horton on his egg, there is no way I'm going
I have seeds planted here for '24 that need sowing

Tomorrow at noon you may come with a sled
You may try to take off with our marital bed
Hang your pictures, fill your fridge, take away my delights.
But I won't go easy, I will put up a fight

For outside that door with subpoenas in hand
My future awaits but its not as I planned
They want me out now, their visage has hardened
But alas my Christmas stocking included no pardon

I stand here red faced, more orange than Santa
I'm too old to run, soon I'd be in a canter
So like Custer's last stand, here's my line in the sand
I won't leave this place, without pardon in hand

Pardon me sounds polite, it's not me at all
But pardon me President Pence so I don't take the fall
I'll resign, I'm resigned to do what I must
I can just leave in peace if in Pence I can trust

Four years' not so bad, though I wanted four score
I was the greatest since Abe that's for definite sure
But tomorrow and tomorrow, no longer a petty pace
And now Pence won't forgive me, and I lost the race

So out on my bottom tomorrow I'll go
So out on the bottom what a fierce mortal blow
No Santa, no Mike Pence, not even Bill Barr
No Jared, no Ivanka, I've fallen so far
No Dancer, or Prancer or Rudolph will show
All alone with my lies and red ties will I go


Anonymous said...

Just read this piece. It’s wonderful. A masterpiece. It should be published everywhere. I love it!


Anonymous said...


Anonymous said...

Amazing that you wrote this!!
The NY Times needs you!

Anonymous said...

Love this! Really Superb!--RE