By Rogi Riverstone
'Tis Two Weeks Before Christmas
'Tis two weeks before Christmas and all through Iraq not a Ba'ath member's stirring; they're all under attack.
The Congress were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of pork-barrels danced in their heads; And Abdul in his turban, and I in my cap, Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.
When out by the barn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the mat to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The sun on the breast-plates of infantry men Gave the lustre of Dooms-day to rooster and hen, When, what to my wondering eyes should arrive, But Saddam Hussein! And he's still alive!
With a pitiful shudder, so scruffy and sad, I knew in a moment, "this guy's really bad!" More rapid than eagles Bush's coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name.
"Now, Rumsfeld! now, 'Leeza! now, Cheney and Powell! On, Wolfowitz! Ashcroft! on, Bremer!" he howled. "To taxpayer of America! to the street they call Wall! Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, So up to the press-corps the coursers they flew, With their heads full of facts, and determination, too.
For then, in a twinkling, Saddam heard on the floor The stomping and beating on his spider hole door. As he drew in his hand, and was turning around, Down the tunnel special ops came with a bound.
He was dirty, Saddam, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; A bundle of rags, where he lay on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they squinted! his dimples how scary! His cheeks were all pock-marked, his nose ran like a dairy! His chapped little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The smell of his breath exhaled through yellowed teeth, And his nappies encircled his head like a wreath; He had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook, when he screamed, like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right miserable troll, And I laughed when I saw him throw up in a bowl; A tear in his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
Republicans shouted their case to perfection, "Our worries are diminished for next year's elections!" And laying a pistol aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the tunnel they rose.
They sprang to the Humvie, to the team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, that captive, Saddam, "This ain't-a body double; we've got the bad man!"
Submitted by Wilma G