Twas the night before Indictment

 

Twas the night before indictment on Wentworth Lane.

Not a creature was stirring, except the nine squirrels eating Duffy’s birdseed out front.

 

The TV was on, CNN, of course my dear.

In hopes that Bob Mueller soon would appear.

 

Both pets were nestled all snug in their beds.

Actually, Murphy sleeps on the sofa, we don’t quite know why.

 

And Sweetie in her PJ’s and I in my…actually, I usually sleep naked.

Had just settled to bed…at 9:15…hoping not to be…awake-ed.

 

When out in the driveway there arose such a clatter.

Madeline sprang to the window to see what was the matter.

 

Away to the window she flew in a flash.

Threw open the window and yelled, “Duffy, you never fixed this sash!”

 

The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow…huh?

Since when did snow grow breasts?

Gave the luster of midday to objects below.

(For you nitwits out there that means they were easier to see).

 

When what to our wandering eyes did appear?

But a bulletproof Cadillac Escalade sleigh and eight human reindeer.

 

With a creepy fat driver not lively nor quick.

I was horrified to see it was President Dick!

 

Less rapid that eagles his coursers they came.

And he burped, then he farted, and called them by name.

 

Now Spicer, now Pence, now Huckabee-Sanders…

On Cohen, on Rudy…

“Wait…why have so many of my minions deserted my team?”

 

To the top of the porch…wait, there’s no porch?

No porch?…This can’t be a red state!

 

To the top of the wall…

I have cash for you, cash for you, cash for you all!

 

So up to the rooftop the rejects they flew.

With a sleigh full of subpoenas and St. Dickalous too.

 

As I drew in my head and was turning around,

Down the chimney Santa Tanghead came with a bound.

 

His clothes were all tarnished with Ring Dings and chips.

He cracked a wry smile with his anus-like lips.

 

His eyes they were bloodshot, his breath how revolting!

His hair was askew, my goodness, he’s molting!

 

The stump of a cellphone he had clenched in his teeth.

And to my shock he pulled off a full dental tweet.

 

He had a large head and a huge flabby belly.

That was held in with Spanx, and talk about smelly!

 

He was gross and disgusting, not quite an elf.

He required no fatsuit, he was simply himself.

 

He spoke not a word (if you can believe that)

But went straight to his work.

Filling every stocking with coal, coal, coal.

Not that we were naughty, just to satisfy his base.

 

He ate the milk and cookies and then turned with a jerk.

He headed to the kitchen and finished our pot roast…

What a jerk!

 

Then placing some fingers down into his pants…

He scratched himself quickly, and did a small dance.

 

He sprang to his sleigh with the help of his minions.

But not before dropping a business card that read…

“No papers, no presents”  Santa Dick, INC.

 

They flew off to the south and I could clearly hear his call.

“You’ll never get me, Mueller”…then…splat!  Right into the border wall!

 

 

High hopes that this will lift your Christmas Spirits and may your New Year be filled with hearings and indictments and impeachments too!