Fred Smith: The Night Before New Year’s

Fred Smith, assessment expert (retired from the New York City Board of Education) and part-time poet, published this poem today in the New York Daily News.

The night before New Year’s: A Message from Your President!

By FRED SMITH 

NEW YORK DAILY NEWS – DEC 31, 2020

  ‘Tis the eve of the new year and in his White House

Sits a lame duck-tailed bad man with unsmiling spouse.

“This may be my last chance before my thoughts drift

To give all those who miffed me one parting gift. 

Whether I liked them or hated, they can’t escape blame,

They’re bound to be “Fired” in my blazing endgame:

To my faithless AG and once true legal goon,

I leave Barr to flame out in a hot air balloon.

As to Mitch, the traitor, who acknowledged Joe’s win,

Here’s a carton of face masks to smother his chin;

And for Rudolph, the red-faced, sputt’ring buffoon, 

Nothing’s better to drown in than a pool-sized spittoon.

The prize for Pompeo requires some thinking,

Backtracking on hacking without even blinking;

As for Doctor Birx, as well as for Fauci,

A pox on both jerks for making me grouchy. 

To my dearest friends, Pelosi and Schumer,

A set of false teeth and an unbenign tumor;

Bah, to Gorsuch, Kavanaugh and Coney Barrett;

I’ll defrock the three for not being my parrots. 

To NBC cable’s O’Donnell and Maddow,

Go choke on your words, and sleep in the shadow;

Which goes for CNN cronies, Tapper and Blitzer,

Have Cheez Doodles washed down with a Clorox-laced spritzer. 

The Judiciary Committee and Adam Schiff

Will ride a one-way train, heading straight off a cliff;

For Masha, Colonel Vindman and Fiona Hill,

You uttered the truth; here’s a poisonous pill. 

This thing ‘bout the virus and how many have died?

QAnon swears that every one of them lied;

That proves there are 300,000 folks hidin’;

No goodies for the “dead” who voted for Biden. 

Of course, can’t forget those phony Obamas,

Who I’d exile to starve on an isle full of llamas;

And I have to keep waiting until one week hence

To decide what determines the fate of Mike Pence. 

At last, I’ll heap ashes upon mini-Mnuchin,

Whose stimulus deal was smaller than a capuchin;

When I told my pet monkey to get a bill signed,

This blind four-year flunky failed to read my mind. 

Allegiance to me must remain undiminished;

One step out of line and you know you are finished,

‘Cept for Putin, who says I lost the election;

For some weird reason I can’t spurn his defection. 

Yet still, there are more who have sorely peeved me,

Who think I’m a fool and those who have grieved me:

And that would include all the world’s foreign leaders

Who laughed at my power, those dumb bottom feeders. 

I’ll give them all coal to stuff in their crotches;

And spoiled milk to SNL which nobody watches.

There’s a surprise in store for Stephen Colbert;

It’s something set for ticking under his chair. 

Forget about pardons and exoneration,

I truly deserve an extended vacation

Where I won’t have to pretend to read even one book;

And I’ll have full time for golfing and being a crook.

 Now it’s almost midnight on this dark New Year’s Eve,

And a terrible time to be taking my leave.

But I swear I’ll keep tweeting my message of cheer

To do more for America this coming year.” 

Smith, who worked for the New York City Department of Education, writes occasional poems.