Poem Articles

A Visit from Chair Priebus

Dec 28, 2015

'Twas the night before Christmas, when out on the stump

Not a creature was stirring, not even a Trump;

The pundits were poring o'er laptops with care,

In hopes that enlightenment soon would be theirs;

The pollsters were nestled all snug in their beds;

While margins of error tapdanced in their heads;

And Susan with Chekhov, and I with Lee Child,

Had just settled down for a fun evening wild.

When out in the drive there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.

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