Truth Antisocial

A classic holiday verse.

Illustration for Twas the Night Before Christmas by Clement C. Moore.

’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Mar-a-Lago
An old man was scheming, like orange Iago.
The children were elsewhere to feather their beds,
While visions of emoluments danced in their heads.
Just Mama in Gucci, and Papa distemper,
Trimmed the Fourth Reich as they had since November.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
With room for Bragg, Merchan, and James to hang there.
And, as some phony experts made him especially grouchy,
The thickest of nooses was waiting for Fauci.

But when on the TV arose a big clatter,
He soiled his diaper o’er what could be the matter?
To the Fox and Friends magi he flew like a flash,
For he was no fan of the fake Dana Bash.

Turned up the volume, and slurred “Come Mela’na,
We’re under attack in that shithole Panama!”
“Those murderous rapists picked this occasion,
“To accuse the Trump Org of bald tax evasion!”

And then, of his promise to add to his Dreamland,
The Danes had said, “Moron you cannot have Greenland.”
Then news his pal Gaetz paid for dates at the prom.
It was like those Yule eves with no hugs from his mom.

What next to his teary old eyes did appear?
A ban on Death Row by the end of the year!
That sleepy Joe Biden, now lively and quick,
Had stymied more plans of the Tatorish Dick.

Joe’s just one of many in those traitorous games.
Don whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
“Out, Cheney! Out Woodward! Out Miley and Diller!
“On, Tulsi! On, Hegseth! On, Elon and Miller!

“I’ve built 50 miles of beautiful wall!
“Before I am done you should dash away all!
“Or be dashed into bits or locked behind bars.
“With Muslims and Latins and Hollywood stars.
“With a tissue of lies, like a pedo Dem grooming.
“I’ll swindle the suckers while tycoons are booming,
“To the body-cam music of a traffic-stop shootin’
“I’ll surrender Ukraine to Vladimir Putin.”

Pranced in now his stylists with bronzer and brush,
As Christmasy thoughts turned to his other big crush.
Not Habib or Loomer, those nasty baboons.
His soulmate and mentor, “my dear Kim Jong Un!
“Kim’s eyes — how they twinkle! His dimples, how merry!
“His cheeks are like roses, his nose like a cherry!
“His droll little mouth draws up like a bow,
“His people they love him like Hunter loves blow.”

And then, in a twinkling, he heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each devil’s hoof.
As he drew in his head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney slid Bannon, a scoundrel to scound!
He was dressed in five shirts, looking pockmarked and greasy,
So jolly in laughing, “I said t’would be easy!”

He looked like a peddler unpacking his sack,
Blueprints and war plans flung on his back,
The eyes of a wolf could not be more wolfer,
The rottenest egg would stink less of sulfur.

He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, like a gnome in a garden,
When he’s convicted again, he’ll get a fresh pardon.

Education department, antitrust and press freedom
With thick Sharpie lines the new king will delete ’em;
SEC, CDC, the whole Bill of Rights
(Except for 2A, to MAGA’s delight).
As to the sin of empirical compliance:
Criminal statutes against knowledge and science.
The Army is called in and not just abroad
As tanning-bed Jesus unsheathes his swift sword.
Greenland and Panama, the ACLU,
Judges and mayors and Taylor Swift, too.

He laughed when he realized, this master of bilk.
’Twas silly to cry over a bit of spilt milk.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
He blurted “Damn Denmark! I’ve nothing to dread!”
With worries vacated he again set to work:
A 4-year-old’s tantrum from a 5-alarm jerk.
Not running a country or serving his people
But ass-gouging foes on the point of a steeple.
The smear in his diaper was such a foul smudge,
But nothing compared to the stench of his grudge.

He sprang to his feet, this midnight commuter,
And raced to his workplace, young Barron’s computer.
Logged into TruthSocial, and pecked like a pecker,
“In 26 days, I’ll wreck like a wrecker.
“You’ll call me Dear Leader. You’ll Praise my great Might.
“MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ME, TO THE REST A LONG BLIGHT!!!”