The Night Before Christmas
-A little something for the Canadian federal election, written by my supervisor from the summer, Graeme.
’T was the night before the election when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The pamphlets were thrown in the recycling without care
In hopes that my family could be spared the hot air.
The candidates were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of free chicken dinners danced in their heads.
And my wife in her lingerie and I in the nude,
Had just settled down for something a little lewd,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I left my poor wife,
Who then spoke a comment as sharp as a knife.
The gleam that sparkled in my loving eye
Left a luster of concern, though I don’t like to lie.
When, what to my wandering eye should appear,
But a new SUV and eight tiny volunteers,
With a little old leader so eager to ingratiate,
I knew in a moment it must be my local candidate.
More rabid than wild dogs his volunteers they came,
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
"Now, Student, now Senior! Now, Token Minority and Attractive Young Vixen!
On, Publicist, on Stylist! On, Wealthy Yet Anonymous Financial Benefactor!
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall!
Now leave a sign, get a donation, and shake a hand, all!"
As dry heaves before a political speech,
Where they rehash gay rights, the Constitution and Meech,
So up past my throat my dinner it rose,
And left a great stain all over my clothes.
And then in a twinkling, I heard on my door,
The rapping and tapping of some vote-hungry bore.
As I left my room to bolt and dead-lock,
Down the chimney the candidate fell like a rock.
He wore buttons and stickers, from his head to his foot,
And I wished the fire had been left on….ah, zut.
A bundle of promises flowed from his tongue,
Of tax cuts and child care for the young.
To the right wing and left wing, how he did vary! His principles, how merry!
And besides, he said, the other guy is scary!
His droll little head was not very hairy,
And his beady little eyes never left his BlackBerry.
The stump of a speech he recited with glee,
The same he’d been speaking since 1993.
He had a nice suit and seemed well-heeled,
As he spoke of Canadians and agendas concealed.
"I’m right, I’m right, I’m right!" he would reiterate,
And I laughed when I saw him self-congratulate.
I clenched my fist and raised my arm,
Which gave him to know he could soon come to harm.
He spoke not a word, but ran right away,
Not even his volunteers seemed eager to stay.
And raising a certain finger, I waved him goodbye,
Without so much as a tear in my eye.
"Isn’t it right for me to be elected?"
He cried as he left my lawn, and to his team gave a sob,
But he heard me exclaim, as he left all dejected,
"Who cares what happens? I’ll still have my job!"