Twas the week after Christmas, there wasn’t a whiff
Of congressmen rushing to avoid the cliff.
They bloviated, they blew, lots of hot air,
Leaving the country full of despair.
Grover Norquist smiled, severe in his stance,
No tax increase, not even a chance.
While families wondered how much more they will pay,
Uncle Sam stroked his beard all through the day.
From the shores of Hawaii the president rose,
To the microphones he stepped on tippy-tip toes.
“Now boys, and some girls, my vacation is done,
I’m returning to deal with you in Washington.
“Can’t we find some new common ground,
To keep most taxes low. Now, how does that sound?
Come Boehner, come Cantor, come McDonnell and more,
It’s time we talked some more to explore
A new fiscal plan that’s not all as stiff
As that Draconian plan that’s beyond the cliff.
We need to agree for the sake of the country
On measures to keep our fiscal sanity.”
Twas the week before New Year when all millionaires
Fretted and wondered if Congress would dare.
What plan could be hatched to take some more tax
From those who could pay, but always say “nay.”
It’s too soon to tell the end of this tale,
Be of good cheer, we have nothing to fear
But falling over a deep fiscal cliff,
Leaving the nation only slightly adrift.