The Right Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas all through a House

Not a Speaker was stirring, not even the souse;

The Census was hung by the chimney with care,

In the hopes that 2012 would soon be there;

The Repubs were nestled all smug in their beds.

Visions of Tea Party plums danced in their heads;

And DeMint in his 'kerchief and Coburn in his cap


Tried to settle down for a long winter's nap,

When on the White House lawn rose such a clatter

Obama sprang from bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window he flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the bodies of new-fallen Dems

Gave the lustre of mid-day to Pelosi's hems,

When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,

With a little old driver, so lively and weird,

He knew in a moment it must be Harry Reid.

More rapid than earmarks his coursers they came,

And he whistled, shouted, and called them by name;

"Now, Schumer! now, Boxer! now, Burris and Bennett!

On, Specter! on Dodd! comers, goers of the Senate!


To the top with START! to the top with Don't Tell!

Now vote away! vote away! vote away like Hell!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,

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

So up to the Capitol the Senators they flew,

With a sleigh full of votes, some Republicans too.

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

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As he drew in his head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney Santa Reid came with a bound.

He was dressed in GOP skins, from head to foot,

Clothes all tarnished with tradeoffs and soot;

A bundle of scalps he had flung on his back,

And looked like a lobbyist opening his pack.

His eyes they twinkled! his dimples how merry!

Cheeks like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

Beard of his chin as white as Olympia Snowe;

The stump of a pipe held tight in his teeth,

Smoke of McConnell circled up like a wreath;

No broad face or little round belly,

To shake when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He wasn't chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,

But Barack laughed to see him, in spite of himself;

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave him to know no filibusters to dread;

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

Filled the roll calls, then turned with a jerk,

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;

Sprang to his sleigh, gave his team a high-five,

Away they all flew to see constituents live.

Barack heard a shout, ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, Aloha for a good-night."

(Apologies to Clement Clarke Moore.)