We have a pride of poets on this blog. The following was written by testing expert Fred Smith, who advised the New York City Board of Education back in the days before Testmania. Fred now advises opt out parent groups.

‘Twas the night before Christmas and in the Snow House

Sat a duck-assed old fat man with botoxic spouse. 

This may be my last chance to go through the list,           

And give gifts to people who’ve made me real pissed. 

Whether I like them or hate, it’s ever the same,                 They’re bound to go down in my endless blame game:     
To my faithless AG and once true legal goon,                      Yeah, Bill Barr you left me, so come kiss my moon.

As to Mitch, the traitor, who upped and caved in,            Here’s a carton of face masks to cover your chin;         And for Rudolph, the red-faced, sputt’ring buffoon,                  What would be more fitting than a golden spittoon;       

The prize for Pompeo requires some thinking,                Backtracking on hacking without even blinking;             And as for that Birx, as well as for Fauci,                      A pox on both jerks for making me grouchy;                   

And to my dear friends, Pelosi and Schumer,                  A set of false teeth and an unbenign tumor;                    

Bah, to Gorsuch, Kavanaugh and Coney Barrett             I’ll strip off their robes for not being my parrot;               

To NBC cable, O’Donnell and Maddow,

Go choke on your words and walk in the shadow;           Which goes for Jake Tapper and for Wolf Blitzer,           Two cups of egg nog and a cyanide spritzer;                    

The Judiciary Committee and Adam Schiff                     A one-way train ride heading off of a cliff;                      

As for Masha, Vindman and Fiona Hill,                          You dared utter the truth; here’s a poisonous pill;            

This thing ‘bout the virus and how many have died?                 Qanon swears that every one of them lied;                      

I now know there are 300,000 folks hidin’;                       No presents for the “dead” who voted for Biden;              

Of course, can’t forget those phony Obamas,                  Who should be sent packing to some land full of llamas;               

And I have to keep waiting until two weeks hence          To decide what determines the fate of Mike Pence;

But there’s a place in my heart for Betsy DeVos; I’d love to spend a few minutes inside her clothes.

On Ivanka, on Kayleigh, on a Stormy day,On Kelly or any blond who’ll pull my sleigh.
Loyalty to me must be undiminished; 

One step out of line and you know you are finished,                 ‘Cept for Putin, who says I lost the election;                   
For some weird reason I can’t spurn his defection.   

 But I digress, there are more who sorely peeved me,                 Who think I’m a fool and those who have grieved me:    

Including all foreign leaders, ‘cause they are foreign,      Save for Bibi and Britain’s Elizabeth Warren.               

I’ll give them all coal to stuff in their crotches;               And spoiled milk to SNL which nobody watches.         

And let me see what I have for Stephen Colbert;             Ah, it’s something set for ticking under his chair.             

Forget about pardons and exoneration,                    Maybe I just need an extended vacation                          Where I won’t have to pretend to read any book,              And I’ll have full time for golf and being a crook. 

Now it’s almost midnight on this Xmas Eve,                   And it’s time for me to be taking my leave,                     But I’ll keep right on tweeting my message of cheer                 To see what more I can do in the new year.       

                       –  Fred Smith