Twas the night before New Years, when outside my flat
The Pols were stirring, but I said “no, no, not that.”
Screens were a’ flicker, with cheer and not Fox,
In hopes that the ball would shimmy, and glisten, and drop.
The children were rolling their eyes as I peek,
Just a few surveys, and op-eds that I seek
And M in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
With Iowa’s numbers tucked in the nap.
When out from the street there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Newspaper truck with deliveries, perchance?
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Reflected the pale visage of Michelle B. below.
I rubbed my eyes, when what should appear,
Michelle became Sarah, and eight tiny reindeer.
Ah, I cried, not her, I pled,
McCain, you idiot, go back to bed.
More rapid than sled dogs his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Perry! Now, RonPaul! Now, Rickster and Mitten!
On, Huntsman! On, Newter! On, T-Paw and Hermen!
You’ve had your fun; you’ve run your race!
Now dash away! Dash away! Save your face!"
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pounding of a rather large hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Out the elevator came Christie came with a bound.
He was dressed in a suit, red tie with a flag
And his shoes were bright polished, he carried a bag.
A bundle of stickers he had on his back,
And he looked like a lawyer, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
He said, not to worry, it won’t be Perry!
I said, “how ‘bout Newt?” He gave me a grin
“Not Newt, and not Ron, after I begin.”
“You picked Mitt, I replied, endorsed him well.”
“So I did,” said he, “It made him feel swell.”
He had a broad face and quite a big belly,
That shook when he giggled, like a bowlful of jelly!
Chris spoke no more words, but went straight to his work,
Pasting stickers on doorways then turned with a jerk.
And emptying the bag of his precious load,
And giving a nod, down, down the elevator he rode!
My kids, hearing sounds, called out my name.
“Dad, please come back, have you no shame?
I turned on my heel, Mitt’s up by three I declare
D, stop that, they beg, you’ll go mad, we don’t care.
Watch football, they said, not the Jets, they will lose.
Pick college, Northwestern, something to soothe.
So I turned my thoughts to the upcoming bowls
Hawkeyes and Gamecocks? What are the polls?
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