Monday, November 07, 2005

Pie-Eyed Poetry: Election Eve

The Lament of Randy and Peter
'Twas the night before elections, and all through blog,
not a creature was stirring,
not even Mandingo's dense fog.

The lawn signs were hung in the window with care,
in hopes that Chris Coleman would win the affair.

RT Rybak was nestled all snug in his bed,
while visions of a taxpayer-financed Twins stadium danced in his head.

With Rybak was in his PJs, and Coleman in his cap,
the two laid down their heads for an election eve nap.

They had just settled down when there arose such a clatter,
they both sprung into action to see what was the matter.

Away to the windows they flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash

When what to their consituent-filled eyes should appear
But a diminutive Randy Kelly and a McLaughlin named Peter.

Holding election results and a few bottle of brew,
They shouted, "We don't give up; look at our crew!"

More rapid than eagles their campaigners they came,
And they whistled and shouted, and they called them by name:

"Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"

To East St. Paul and North Minneapolis the campaigners did scatter
In hopes that with stickers and buttons the voters they'd flatter.

But Kelly looked haggard, and McLaughlin quite dim,
For they've been 'round long enough to know their chances are slim.

But fight on they will, and stay happy they must,
And for Kelly at least future GOP endorsements he'll trust.

Contorting their faces at Coleman and Rybak as if they were smelly,
They screamed and shook their fingers like bowlfuls of jelly.

Yelling with voices that sounded so hoarse and so weary,
They proclaimed, "Happy Election Eve to all...'cause tomorrow we'll be teary.

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