'Twas the night before Christmas and all ‘cross the state

The temperature had fallen to a muggy 78.

***

And at Trump’s Mar-a-Lago, well after dusk

Not a creature was stirring, not even a Musk.

***

All a-snug in their rooms, for a long nightly snooze

Unless Pete Hegseth came knocking with booze.

\

***

The entire Trump clan, the whole ganze mishpocha
Were more than content, even the Carlson named Tucker.

***

RFK Junior, dreamed of tasting a panda

Or looking for varmints to eat on the veranda.

***

Tulsi Gabbard was assumed to be deep in her slumber.

But was whispering in her room to a Moscow phone number.

***

In the next room, Guilfoyle was making plans for Greece

While Don Jr. was dreaming of his imminent release.

***

So much contentment from all those on the make

Except for old Donald, who was restlessly awake.


It bugged to him sit there alone and not sleepy

He needed a crowd to praise him quite deeply.


Or to sell Bibles, cologne, and some golden shoes

This solitude was giving him the YMCA blues.

***

Where’s Vivek to be a rapt audience for his “weave”?

And why won’t Fox News return calls on Christmas Eve?

***

And what about Melania? More morose than vibrant,

And harder to track than a border-crossing migrant.

***

Trump was so bored, he nearly searched under beds

For those top-secret docs well hid from the feds.

***

Then he heard a sound so strange and unique

That he went to the window to have himself a peek.

***

The moon in the sky gave a luster like snow

To the lawn in the back the foreign-born mow.

***

When what to his wondering eyes should appear,

It was a sleigh with eight reindeer and a driver alone.

For a moment he thought, “It’s a New Jersey drone!”

***

But it was Santa, Trump saw, and, oh, what a sight,

As the sleigh clipped the flagpole, nearly invisible at night.

***

More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came.

And he whistled, and shouted and called them by name.

***

“Now Dasher, now Prancer, now Comet and Vixen.

Here lives the guy who's far worse than Nixon.”

***

The sleigh landed swiftly, on the roof with a skid.

And Trump gave a warning, yes, that’s what he did.

***

“Santa, that bag of yours is bursting with foreign-made stuff.


It’s time you were tariffed, America has had enough.”

***

“You take us for fools, as if we don’t care.

It’s time you North Polers paid your fair share.”

***

“You’re globalist scum, not an America-first chooser.

Now, get off my roof, you #NeverTrump loser.”

***

Santa gave a laugh while ignoring Trump’s screed,

“I got you this book, something you should read.”

***

“Don’t worry. It’s short, and has lots of pictures.

It’s all about tariffs and foreign trade strictures.”

***

“Instead of carrying on like an uniformed jerk

You might as well learn how tariffs really work.”

***

“And once you learn tariffs, I’ve got another for good measure:

A lesson book about NATO, an alliance you should treasure.”

***

“I know it all,” Trump said. “Just ask my staff.

I aced a cognitive test, picked out the giraffe.”

***

“And now I’m the king, the most loved in the nation.

Especially once I get rolling on mass deportation.”

***

Santa interrupted, “I have no time for boot-licking.

I’ve got work to do and the clock is a-ticking.”

***

Trump was offended by Santa’s verbal epistle

And he warned the old elf to expect a Trump missile.

***.

“You’re a woke socialist, Santa. And one day you’ll learn.

Bad things will happen to you my next term.”

***

I’m emptying the prisons of my violent Jan 6 crew

And they’ll trash your workshop like a Capitol coup."

***

"And then I’ll call my FBI minion, the patriot Patel.

Who will specialize in making your life a living hell."

***

"Then, I’ll sue you and drain you of all your life savings

While I Stephanopoulos you with a barrage of court ravings."

***

Santa sighed, “Oh, well,” he said. “I’ve fulfilled my role.

If I thought you wouldn’t like it, I’d a-given you coal.”

***

Claus perched on his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

***

But he sure did exclaim as he rode out of sight.

“Thank God for term limits, and to all a good night.”

Frank Cerabino is a news columnist with The Palm Beach Post, part of the USA Today Network-Florida.

This article originally appeared on Palm Beach Post: A poetic Christmas ode to Trump, tariffs and Santa | Opinion