The Tribune

By INIGO 'NAUGHTY' ZENICAZELAYA

T’was the night before Christmas when all through the House,

Every MP was stirring, from ‘super hero’ to ‘louse’.

The stockings were hung in the smokers’ room with care,

Hoping an ‘official’ OBAN deal would finally be here;

Junior ministers, and ‘suspect senators’ avoided their beds,

As visions of WTO money danced in their heads.

Doc sat in the kitchen, bouncing Anthony, no longer ‘Ace’ on his lap,

Saying “A year later, and they still say, I talking crap”;

When out of the blue there arose such a clatter,

And Brent screamed “Don’t forget my Post Office matter,”

Away to the window Symonette flew like ‘red flash’,

Tore open the shutters, and started counting his new cash.

The moon peered down on Bahamaland below,

As Doc gazed up wondering,

“Why Ferreira still, so slurry and slow?”

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear?

Four PLP MPs plotting a return, in the rear.

With a brave-hearted leader, so lively and quick!

Saying, “No PLPs goin’ to jail, we far to slick,”

And faster than ‘Freddie Mac’ stopped towing the party line ,

Doc shouted, “That Our Lucayan deal , sounds mighty fine!”

“Now Dionisio! Now Jeff! On Duane! Carl ! and Marvin!

“Just do what I say and you and yours won’t end up starving!”

Meanwhile, green with envy, spying grinch like from way across the land,

Mortimer mumbled something ‘bout DNA and “one last stand .”

Laneisha stood up, crying in her tissue,

“They done move me, without even a bye or we ga miss you !”

Travis sprung up, and just broke of running, “I thought I was smart, dudes round here cunning.”

Peter was in the corner, playing blind, dumb and deaf!

Thinking, “When da IMF finish, we’ne ga have nuttin left!”

Doc stood, his mouth twisted up like a bow.

The hair on his head white as snow!

He started shaking, and jiggling like a bowl full of jelly,

Saying, “Man, I red the media once, now the Press all in my belly!”

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself,

And slowly put the Mace back on top of the shelf;

The look in his eye, and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but sat down all forlorn,

Then said, “Mudoes, next election I could gone?”

Brave rode away, like the down of a thistle,

Saying, “These FNMs just as wutless, so you point and I’ll whistle!”

Doc got in bed, then BPL cut off all our light -

Merry Christmas everyone, and remember to lock your doors tight!