Hartley: How the Trump Stole Christmas
I’m With Stupid
Every Who in Creation had been dreading Xmas
From Lapps in reindeer land to mothers in Texmas
The crass commercialism! The prices of gifts!
The torture of airports and crowded ski lifts!
Whatever their reasons, they’d had quite enough
And between 60 zillion they raised such a huff
That it built up as vapor, a voluminous cloud
Of everyone’s issues, the whole madding crowd
And that cloud headed northward past Juneau and Nome
To out where the musk ox and caribou roam
Now out on that tundra there’s a curious cavern
That’s mentioned in whispers at the next-nearest tavern
They say that the cave is the carcass-strewn lair
Of a creature so vicious, of such evil air
That it’s very existence could topple world orders
And threaten relationships, treaties and borders
The one thing, they claim, that keeps it at bay
Is that it has no means of learning our way
So it festers out there in its cavernous dump
The frightening creature that’s known as the Trump!
The Trump sat alone with his horrible thinking
When he swore that he heard some something a-slinking
So he poked out his head to see who had the audacity
And he sniffed up a snootful of something so gasity
That he knew in an instant, his nostrils a-burning
He had finally figured a method of learning
For that cloud he inhaled in his lungally pipes
Was naught but the fumes of humanity’s gripes
As he breathed in that knowledge it gave him a reason
To creep from his cave to go kill Xmas season!
To start, thought the Trump, I will crown myself king
By rigging this whole U.S. election-y thing
Then I’ll raise a whole pointless kerfuffle with China
Oh, just wait till I do it! No one else does it finer!
And I’ll let Russia think that I’m their best friend
When, truth be known, they’re a means to an end
And that end, if you must know, is the end as we know it
If there’s chaos for sowing, I’ll be there to sow it
And if I get my way, oh wait, there’s much more
By this Xmas season I’ll start a world war!
So the Trump set his sights on the masses’ demise
With his con games and fast talk, his insults and lies
And at first he got people to follow along
But in time he decided that he’d got it all wrong
For the people, less all of their groans and their gripes
He found that they’re not such despicable types
And when you learn through a black cloud of evil osmosis
You learn nothing worth learning. Everyone knows this!
Such conflicted feelings got that old Trump a-guessin’
And he decided he’d teach everybody a lesson
For his first point of order on assuming the throne
The Trump knocked out service to everyone’s phone
Then he shut down the Internet, made it ungettable
Which everyone screamed was a state most regrettable
But the Trump wouldn’t listen, he chose to decline
The people, he said, must live their lives offline
And then a funny thing happened when the griping all stopped
We got out and moving and our blood pressure dropped
And we weren’t all so angry, our moods weren’t so gray
And by the very next Xmas, the Trump went away
Todd Hartley, that beacon of holiday cheer, bids you merry Christmas and happy New Year! To read more or leave a comment, visit http://zerobudget.net.
If you’ve been reading the paper lately, you know there’s a memorial service coming up for M.J. Elisha on Saturday, Oct. 8, at Jehovah’s Hall.