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Twas the night before Christmas and all thru the land
Not an Lib was stirring, they had taken a stand
Their stocking were hung by the solar panels with care
With hopes that Karl Marx soon would be there
The Occupyers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of anarchy danced in their heads.
And mamma in her Birkenstocks and I with my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s rap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang forth to see what was the matter.
Forgetting Chris Mathews and leaving my bong,
I went to the window expecting to see Cheech and Chong
The moon shone on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
That despite global warming was piled up below.
When, what to my hopeful eyes should appear,
But Barack himself, complete with his sneer.
He were not alone, oh no he was not,
Beside him was the rest of that despicable lot.
More red than Lenin, the Libs they came,
And he peered down his nose as he called them by name!
Now Barney, now Steny, now Patrick, and Bernie
On Biden, on Reid on Schumer and Pelosi
To the top of the windmills, to the top of the Mall!
Now give-away, spend away, give away all!
Though the T-Party objected and mightily they tried,
Not too worry its free stuff, as usual they lied
So up to the house-top the Porkers they flew,
With the sleigh full of handouts and Dear Leader too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The laughing and hooting they were all so aloof
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Obama came with a bound.
He was dressed all in red, from his head to his sneaks
Had his Teleprompter as well, in case he had to speak
A bundle of goodies he produced in a flash,
He was not a peddler, it was his personal stash.
Free Housing, a new Prius, which one will it be?
Here’s a signed copy by Saul Alisnky?
He said with a nod everyone worries less
Ever since I pushed thru another Stimulus
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Nothing for PC hims or socially conscious hers.
Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim, nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamored or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls, or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacific.
No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.
No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt,
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
We’ll skip all the Cons and make them bristle,
But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,
Happy Kwanza to all, and to all a good-night!"

So I leave you to think
On this one final note-
IF YOU’VE HAD IT WITH SOCIALISM
NEXT NOV, LET'S CLEAN HOUSE, GET OUT AND VOTE