Fire your speechwriter, Senator Burris.

(Via Hot Air Headlines) It doesn’t bloody scan. At all.  I was wincing by line 2.

In fact: watch and learn, Sparky.

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the Senate
Dems schemed over health care. Who cares what was in it?
The majority planned, in guise of reform,
To pass their agenda in one perfect storm.

“We own the whole Senate!” cried they with a grin.
“Not to mention the House! It’ll get voted in.”
(Though there was no need, at least right this second;
But the vision of partisan triumphing beckoned.)

The Republican Senators of course could not win
Because their minority was simply too thin.
– But across every state there rose such a clatter
From people the Democrats thought didn’t matter.

So Dems sprang to their desks and they ran to the floor
To pass something quick, lest the mob at the door
Would then make it clear, in terms fairly raucous
That the country was mad at their pork-ridden caucus.

“Hey, POTUS! Hey, Speaker! Hey, YOU! Harry Reid!
What games are you playing in our hour of need?”
The jobs are all going, we know who to blame:
And don’t think to worry: we’ll remember your name.”

Burris could care less, because he’s retiring;
He knows that he can’t be subject to firing.
And so, Blago’s Revenge can push for a fight
That won’t ever cost him a single lost night.

They bribed their three-fifths, there under the dome
And bleary-eyed Senators rose to go home.
A party-line vote – and wasn’t it fun?
Because I assure you, it’s only begun.

The people out there did vote for Obama
They didn’t vote, though, for this kind of drama.
Poll numbers on this have dropped out of sight!
So Merry Christmas to all! Hugs and kisses, the Right.

Moe Lane

PS:

One last little quibble with that first edition:
‘Option’ is not a good rhyme for ‘condition.’

Crossposted to RedState.