Chairman Treacy Gives Ballard Lump of Coal for Christmas

Having landed in the new digs, Ed Treacy, the Marion County Democratic Party Chair, is now bringing the holiday poetry:

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the city,
No Mayoral vision appearing, not even for pity,
The citizens were worried, for their city they do care,
In hopes that the Mayor soon would be there,
The Republican Caucus nestled snug in their beds,
While hopes of bold vision danced in their heads,
And the city did brace for the coming cold snap,
Having just gotten over the last snow plowing flap,
When from city hall there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter,
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Then did Steve Goldsmith appear, from the far distant past,
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a set of new problems, even worse I did hear,
With a misleading care for the local taxpayer,
I knew in a moment it must be the Mayor,
More rapid than eagles his supporters they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name -
"Now, Cotterill and Vane! Now, Bego! Now, Brizzi and Karn!
On, Grand! On Loftus! On Durham and Vaughn!
To Chinatown go and seek out the cricket ball!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away, all!
As CIB taxes rose up to the sky,
When they meet with an obstacle, they cannot deny,
So new taxes on hotels around they flew,
With taxes on food and beverages too,
And then, in a twinkling, I heard from the news,
The Mayor did plan to raise fees, quite a few,
As I looked at the fees, increases galore,
No longer a friend to the tea partiers, not anymore,
He was threatening to veto any smoking ban,
And his advisors still haven’t concocted a plan,
A free cop car he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And somehow the original poem was so apropos,
The lack of a smoking ban with any teeth,
The smoke it encircled his head like a wreath,
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly,
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself,
A phone call to Bales, parks traded for cash, instead,
Soon gave me to know I had everything to dread,
He is someone who once ran a car pool,
And despite what’s been said by his stooge, Abdul,
Just by laying his finger aside of his nose,
And by giving a nod, the taxes and fees they all rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle,
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Higher taxes to all, and to all a good-night!"

Chairman Treacy Gives Ballard Lump of Coal for Christmas