Posted Dec 24, 2018 by Martin Armstrong
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Capitol Hill
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung for lobbyists to fill with care,
In hopes that bankers soon would be there;
The politicians were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Global Warming Taxes danced in their heads;
And Trump in his tux, and Melania in her gown,
Had just wished the nation a Fantastic Christmas as the CNN criticized with glee,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Trump sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of Global Cooling for all to know,
When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
Mueller in a sleigh, with Nancy Pelosi and eight potential candidates with cheer,
With a Mueller the driver, who was so lively and quick,
Trump knew in a moment it must be Impeachment as a new trick.
More rapid than eagles his accusers came,
And they chanted, and shouted, Trump’s not my president is the game;
“Now, Pelosi! now, Schumer! now, Warren and Biden!
On, Booker! on Bloomberg! on, Hillary and Avenatti!
To the top of the polls! to the top of the news!
Now impeach away all with fake news, corruption, and cheer!”