Twas the night before the
unmentionable day, when all through the House
Not a
Yarmuth was
"present", nor in the Senate,
Bill Clinton's spouse.
The new laws were to be signed by the President with care
In hopes that troop funding soon would be there.
The Iowans were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of caucuses danced in their heads.
And
Mama Pelosi in 'kerchief, and
Dingy Harry in cap,
Had just settled their brains for a short winter's nap.
When out on the Internet there arose such a clatter,
I turned on my computer to see what was the matter.
Away to Windows I flew with Adobe-like flash,
Clicked on Explorer and started to gasp.
The approvals of Democrats had fallen
so low,
Gave the lustre of hope to a news day so slow.
When, what to my wandering eyes should appear,
But a
guacamole green hybrid, with passengers in
donkey gear.
With a Nobel-Prize driver, such an inconvenient bore,
I knew in a moment it must be
Al Gore.
More rapid than a sailor's the Demo-blogs' curses came,
And
Howard Dean whistled and gave a shout of each candidate's name.
"Now
Edwards,
Kucinich, now
Oprah, you vixen!
Osama --
Ted meant
Obama -- at least he didn't call him
Nixon!
To the left of the voters, to the left of them all.
Now dash away! Dash away! our hopes for next fall!"
Though Democrats blamed Bush after the wild hurricane blew,
Louisianans knew better, electing a
Republican governor brand new.
So out on the Demo-blogs the
cursers they stewed
And made a bad pun on
Petraeus, and wrote something lewd.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard a sound in the Senate chamber,
I feared what might lurking, could the Republic be in danger?
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
To the podium a Democrat sprang up with a bound.
He was dressed like a Senator, from his head to his foot,
But his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
For he was the one who had been left behind
To convene a
recess session lest recess appointments be signed.
Without a
pledge or a prayer, he went straight to work,
Convened and adjourned before anyone could call him a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, poof! The session was closed.
He sprang to the hybrid, giving the media the slip,
And away they flew like
Columbia Democrats on a Kentucky road trip.
But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight
"I would say Merry Christmas, but it sounds too religious right!"
Please note: The postings of "G. Morris", written by John K. Bush and which end in 2016, stated his views as of the dates of posting and should not be understood as current assertions of his views. The postings, which have not been altered since they came to an end, remain on this blog to preserve the historical record. In 2017, Mr. Bush took a position that precludes further public political comments or endorsements. He will no longer be contributing to this blog.
