Twas a week before Christmas, when all through the why

The answer was Santa, I’d better not cry;

No room to be sad, be angry or pout,

Santa is coming, I’d better watch out;

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Be me nestled in bed or here-there wide awake,

My visions are his to define to remake;

So I in my naughty, and mamma in her nice,

Are both on his list at least twice or thrice,

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Then up in my head there arose such a clatter,

I sprang to my thoughts to see what was the matter.

My mind was a'chuggin', my brain cells were tootin',

I think Santa Claus, is Vladimir Putin

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Impugn the oppressed and their crestfallen woe,

Bark-and-bluster, and display, your faux-bravado,

And what to my wondering eyes doth appear,

But the good and the bad neatly packaged in fear,

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With your brittle old power, so wealthy and slick,

And your good-bad-nice-naughty you must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles your coursers they come,

And you whistle, and shout out, and we call them dumb;

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Now, Jinping! Narendra! now, Donald J Trump!

Word Vomit on Stupid to sway the Mugwump!

To the top of the Twitter! To the top of Fox News!

Now list away! Grist away! Twist and confuse!

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As sly thieves that before beguiled acumen fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, surmount and lie,

So up to the world-top the coursers they flew,

With their populist boys and St. Nickputin too.

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And then in a slinkling, I heard on Fox News

Bromancing and jawing and fascist-pop views.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the drainpipe went more rights with nary a sound.

.

Once again I'm addressed, and told to watch out,

Or Nickputin will tarnish with thrashes of doubt;

His populist boys he has flung to his whim,

And again he is courtin', that guy North K Kim.

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His lies – how they wrinkle! His scruples contrary!

He sneaks and imposes! He knows to be wary!

His standards are doubled, drawn up from the lore,

Thus gifting the wealthy and gapping the poor;

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I am stumped by the hype that is swathed in belief,

That's supposed to evoke, bestir, give relief;

From Frosty and Rudolph and nation and flag,

To learning that Santa's a damn scalawag.

.

We see chubby and plump, in the throes of our youth,

And I've laughed when I've seen him, in spite of the truth;

Tis a wink of the eye and a trick of the brain,

That's bolstered this myth and created this pain;

.

So you'd better watch out, and you'd better not cry,

And you'd better not pout, I am telling you why,

He is making a list and he's checking it twice,

And he'll always know who is naughty and nice;

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He knows when you're sleeping and he sees you awake,

So you'd better be good for your own flippin' sake.

This year it's Nickputin, who should give us pause,

But next year who knows, who will play Santa Claus.

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Be it ever so proper, and still yet not quite,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."