A Taxpayer’s Christmas

(With apologies to Clement Moore)

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, not the cat or the mouse.

The stockings were hung on the mantel with care,

In hopes that our tax break soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of new toys danced in their heads;

And Mom in her nightie and me in my T,

We were counting our tax cut, with joy and with glee.

When out on the lawn there arose there arose such a roar,

That I ran from my bedroom and threw open the door.

A blizzard of snow blew off from the roof,

And my heart jumped with gladness, for here was the proof.

I went back to my parlor where the tree lights shined bright,

For I knew, now, his promise would happen tonight.

Then the house groaned and creaked from the weight of 3 ton;

In his glory he’d landed, with the press an’ Marine 1.

So I cinched up my pants, and was turning around,

When through the front door, he came with a bound.

He was dressed in a blue suit, his red tie a flapp’in.

It was POTUS, by golly. This was going to happen!

A bag full of tax codes he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a lobbyist, when he opened his sack.

He glowered and snorted as he filled up each sock.

Over 500 pages; they hit like a rock.

But, I grabbed up my present, and I started to read,

For I knew he’d assured me; I was lead to believe,

That my tax would be lower; I had nothing to fear.

Our lives would be brighter this coming new year.

And, then the truth hit me; the new law was stealthy.

I was getting no tax cut; I was helping the wealthy.

My deductions were history. My exemptions were shot.

Before, I had tax breaks. Now, I had naught.

I looked up at POTUS. Was this really your will?

No tax cut for me, but a bigger tax bill?

McConnell and Ryan must be slapp’in their shins,

“Though we hosed poor taxpayers, we gave Donald a win.”

Then laying his finger upside of his nose,

Saluting me sharply, in his chopper he rose.

And he tweeted to me as he flew out of sight.

Your tax cut was fake news, but don’t be uptight.

You’re lucky you have me; that I came to town,

For financial security will soon trickle down.

So stop with your whining. Suck it up and don’t bitch.

If it’s a tax cut you want, go out and GET RICH!

Jim Nelson, Helena, is a retired Montana Supreme Court justice.