BY JENNIE MCNULTY
‘Twas the Night before Christmas and all through the flat
Not a creature was stirring not even the cat;
The stockings were hung by the TV with care.
As they made a good basket for balls shot through the air.
The children, what children? ‘Tis a lesbo poem here.
The only thing nestled was a cooler of beer.
My girl in her Knicks hat and I in my Pistons,
Were discussing which team would end up with less wins.
When out in the street there arose such a noise,
So close to The Abbey, it must be gay boys.
To the window I went, to see things for certain
And moved all the cat toys to look out through the curtain.
The moon, nearly full, lit the sky with a glow,
And the shadows from trees put on quite a show.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a black hybrid town car and 8 officers = queer.
With a confident driver, quick witted and bright,
Who looked just like Hillary =hard to tell in this light.
Circled ‘round her, her agents looked this way and that
A new crew it seemed as directions she spat.
“Now! Ellen, now! Wanda, now! Rachel and Rosie,
“On! Portia, on! Lily, on! Holland and Jodie;
“Shake hands at the Abbey, shake hands in the street!
“My record’s not perfect – pissed off gays we must meet!”
Like the milkmen of old, to each house they did go,
No stone left unturned, they went with the flow.
Each person encountered, she spoke with sincere,
“I promise this time, I’ll be always pro-queer.”
And, then in a twinkling, I heard just outside
A voice calling, “All clear,” and another replied:
“Okay, bring her up,” and my heart leapt a bit.
At my door was Ms. Hillary, and I thought, “No shit!”
She was dressed in a pant suit, and comfortable shoes.
And her hair looked just perfect, must be good shampoo.
A pamphlet, all glossy, she held in her hand,
A promise and details to her governing plan.
Her eyes – full of passion! Her attitude merry,
Her cheeks were like roses (maybe hitting the sherry?)
She talked of her goals and how suited she is
To be our next leader, “I’m the best in the biz!”
On and on she did go ‘bout her qualifications.
She needed support and, of course, more donations.
When I asked her about Marco, Ted, Jeb and ole Trump,
Her eyes rolled with disgust, “Just big pains in my rump.”
“I’ve got more experience, Trump’s all ego and wealth.”
And, I laughed when she said that in spite of myself.
A wink of her eye and a handshake most sturdy
I knew she was ready for when this got dirty.
My vote I did promise and I wished her good luck.
“Dear God, you must win ‘cuz the Republicans suck.”
And laying a finger aside of her chin
And, giving a nod, secret service came in.
She sprung to her car with her team in protection
And away they all went, off to win the election.
But I heard her exclaim, ere she drove out of sight –
Happy Christmas to all, and “Hillary 2016!”