Friday, May 05, 2006

The Week After New Year's

Broadcast nationally on CBC Radio - Thursday morning November 17, 2005

THE WEEK AFTER NEW YEAR’S

'Twas the week after New Year’s, when all through the nation,
All the voters were subjected to one last oration.
No rest from the holidays, no family connection,
On a wintry Monday they were facing an election.

The Liberals were nestled all snug in their beds,
While majority visions danced in their heads;
And the Bloc and the Tories and the one they call Jack,
Were all hoping to lead the political pack.

When out on the Lawn there arose such a clatter,
I called 911 to see what was the matter.
The operator knew nothing of this strange event,
Or the possible choosing of a new government.

So I ventured outside to have a quick look,
And to see if I’d find there a thief or a crook.
When, what to my wondering eyes should I see,
But a thousand electors just like you and me.

They climbed up the pathway of Parliament Hill,
And started to roar like they were ready to kill.
Their anger was palpable, a rage you could taste,
And they shouted and hollered about government waste.

"Out Martin! Out Layton! Out Harper and Duceppe!
Out Chretien! Out Guité! Out Dingwall and the rest!
Get out of our country, begone with you all!
We’ve had it to here with your arrogant gall!"

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the street
The angry arrival of ten million more feet.
As I drew in my breath, and was turning around,
The entire electorate arrived on the grounds.

And the millions were shouting and jeering the names
Of the cads and the villains who’d caused all this shame.
They weren’t going to take it, they’d had quite enough,
And to each party leader they said: "Just get stuffed!"

The voters rose up and they made it quite clear
They didn’t want any more politicians here.
They’d had it with Martin and his unfinished plans,
But they couldn’t abide Harper’s extremist demands.
No one trusted Jack Layton to answer the call,
And the guy called Duceppe was the worst one of all.

So they gathered that night at the foot of the Tower,
To take a new stand in this ominous hour.
There was no one to vote for, no one they could trust,
So they decided to do what they knew that they must.

They’d all show up Monday at their own polling stations,
But they’d go there without any sense of elation.
If they had to cast votes for this country they loved,
Then they’d all mark their ballots for "None of the above."

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