‘Twas the night of the Big Vote, when all through the land
not a MAGA was stirring, not even the Klan.
The results would be skewed by Fox News with care,
with aim that Der Führer they soon could declare.
Republicans nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of fascism waltzed in their heads.
Melania with cocktails, and he with his scowls,
had just settled in for some own-the-libs howls.
When from the TV there arose such a clatter,
he strained blood-shot eyes to see why the chatter.
Away to the remote he flew in a flash,
searched all the channels, and then grabbed for his stash.
The boobs on the tube were stating the result
that Don’s prospects looked good, he hoped to exult!
when, what made him turn red and start to throw up
but an eighty-year-old man with his thumb up.
With that familiar stutter, so achingly slow,
He knew in a moment it must be Old Joe.
More numerous than stars, the Dems had turned out
as Joe whistled and shouted and by state he did shout:
“Now Arizona! Now Iowa!
Now, Minnesota and Michigan!
On, Virginia! On, Georgia!
On, Nevada and Wisconsin!
To the top of the count!
To the top of them all!
We won the day! Won the day!
Democracy stands tall!”
© 2024, Kenneth Koziol. All rights reserved.