(Apologies to Clement Clarke Moore’s “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas” for the butchering and ham-handedness of his iconic poem)
‘Twas the night before the Presidential election, when all through the land,
Not a godly person was sleeping—not a child, woman, or man.
A landslide of votes had been cast for Joe Biden with care,
But folks were nervous that come the new day,
The Trump nightmare would still be there.
The Democrats were anxious as they snuggled in their beds,
While visions of a Biden win and Senate take-over danced in their heads.
And Pelosi in her Covid mask, and me in mine too,
Had finally calmed our hearts when we heard a loud “BOO!”
I wondered in my grogginess, what could be the disaster,
But soon spied a giant Covid spector and his Trump-like master.
Down to my knees I dropped like a flash,
Looked up to the heavens, and screamed: “Lawd Jesus, save po’ America’s ass”!
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Illuminated the pumpkin-looking man with the Covid-orange glow.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
Trump’s idols, his lackies, and demons of fear.
More rapid than eagles, his flying gargoyles they came,
As he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
“Now Putin! Now Giuliani!
Now Lindsey and Fox News!
Come Hannity, and McConnell,
Come Repubs, and Laura Ingraham too.
“Back into the belly of the Oval Office!
And into the cowardly hearts of the Senate.
Y’all come visit—stay—for 2021 until forever,
‘Cause this Christian-idol mofo is guaranteed to win it!”
But then in my nightmare, I heard on the roof
A stampede of angelic sandal-clad hoofs.
I ran to the window as thousands flew down
And trampled scary Trump
Into the Halloween ground.
They were led by Archangel Michael—
that champion from stories back in the day
His glorious Halloween costume was
Like a fashionable gay dude from the 1600’s, I’d say.
“Don’t let my outfit fool you,”
he said with a beatific grin.
“No evil is a match for me,
given my sword, wings and fabulous glam trim.”
He spoke a few more words before vanquishing Trump:
“BE NOT AFRAID! The Orange one and his ghouls are a goner.
Tell all your frightened Dem friends
To have hope—Angels’ honor.”
Michael spoke not another word, and went back to his work,
Skewered all of Trump’s demon-pals, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose.
And giving a nod, up to the sky he arose.
His Arch-Angelness hung overhead, and to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew up like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he flew out of sight:
“2020 will not be like 2016!”
“Now calm your faint hearts and have a restful good night!”
Eleanor Tomczyk is an author and a humorist who is an award-winning voice-over performer. In 2011, she created the blog, “How the Hell Did I End Up Here” which features mostly satirical posts that have thousands of readers around the world—although she was recently banned in Pakistan (for real!). Tomczyk’s three books were featured in a recent book festival: “Monsters’ Throwdown,” “Fleeing Oz,” and “The Fetus Chronicles—Podcasts to my Miseducated Self.” Currently in her 70s and living life like it is freakin’ golden, she is a consummate storyteller and much sought-after motivational speaker. If you don’t believe me, just ask her!
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