Enjoy a little Christmas in July with me and my fellow Federal civil servants with this twist on an ageless classic.
‘Twas the Night before Furlough
Concept and execution if not the actual words
by Barack H. Obama
‘Twas the night before Furlough
And all through The White House,
Not a creature was stirring,
Barack had Droned the last Mouse!
Congress was nestled all snug with The Fed
While visions of Mid-Terms danced in their heads.
With Michelle in her kerchief and POTUS in his cap,
The First Couple was hankerin’ for a Hawaiian recess.
When on the South Lawn there arose such a clatter,
Barack leapt from his bed to see what was the matter!
Away to the window he stumbled and crashed,
Tore open the shutters, “Get me a ‘Publican to lash!”
Then towards him on the breast of Taxpayer Dough,
Came Chief-of-Staff Lew, the House Liaison in tow.
And what to befuddled POTUS appeared
Was the Promise of what all Liberals hold dear!
The conspiring driver, so witty and quick,
Had come with an idea to surely do the trick!
More rapid than pirates on good winds of trade,
Jack Lew had found the secret for more Treasury raids!
“Now Nancy! Now Harry! Wake Biden up too!”
“On Fienstein and Boxer!” clammored The Lew.
“Grab Van Hollen and Stoyer and Allyson Schwartz!
We know how to get those ‘Publicans by the shorts!”
“Sequester”, Lew cried, “is how we’ll get what we want!
Higher debt, more money, no need for any cuts!
They would never let it happen, and we won’t cut a dime!
The ‘Publicans will fold handily. They do all the time!”
Then amid all the whooping, the hollering, the yells
Someone asked, “What happens if it freezes in Hell?”
“Don’t worry about that. Our Gambit is sound.
We’ll make the ‘Publicans bad guys. Make it painful as well.”
But The Voice was persistent, an answer was needed.
What of sequestration, if the goal goes unheeded?
Of workers, fixed incomes, and services rendered,
What if the ‘Publicans didn’t surrender?
The Democrats turned on that Voice with wild looks.
Who dare throw a wrench in their Debt Ceiling hook?
Joe Taxpayer had wakened in the midst of the hoopla,
Was asking who’d suffer should The Plan prove a faux pas?
‘Twas The President’s turn to show that he cared
For those who paid taxes and relied on their share
For their services rendered, and the wages they need
For mortgages, tuition, that new Healthcare decree!
The grip of a golf club was light in Barack’s hand
Like the fate of the Middle Class throughout The Land.
He had a kind face and whispered so sweetly,
“Let us worry of that, we’re The Power Elitely!”
He was chummy and glib, quite full of himself
So Joe Voter shrugged off the misgivings he felt.
The Democrat leaders returned to their caucus,
Plotting and planning how to best drain the coffers.
In the end their Big Gamble, it soon fell apart.
Their opponents, the ‘Publicans refused to impart
Higher taxes without spending restraint and responsibility
Towards an Economy renown for its fragile instability.
Joe Taxpayer saw this, and wondered aloud
“The Gambit was futile, so let’s kick this around.
The budget’s important! The worst case is here!
You can’t stand on principle, and at taxpayers sneer!”
But the Democrats were nothing if not committed
To getting what they wanted without being fitted
With ceilings and limits to what they could spend
Even if it was Taxpayers who suffered in the end.
“We need them to suffer, to really feel hurt
From silly cuts in Park services to the pay for their work!
So process those furloughs! Don’t spare them any Pain!”
The POTUS was certain their pain was his Gain.
So as Barack headed off on another vacation,
He climbed up the steps of his tax-paid ‘portation.
And we heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight
“Happy furloughs to all! Thanks for paying The Price!”