’Twas the eve of impeachment, when all through the House

No Republicans wavered, each last one a louse.

The articles were drafted by Democrats with care

In hopes that a conscience would soon bloom there.

We pundits were tossing all steamed in our beds,

While Trump’s certain acquittal danced in our heads.

And I in frustration, feeling all solemn,

Wished I could capture my woe in a column,

When out on the web there arose such a clatter,

I signed in to Twitter to see what was the matter.

And there I beheld him, the master of lies,

Weaving fresh falsehoods, to no one’s surprise.

He savaged the Bidens, he smeared Adam Schiff,

And cycled through villains in a furious jiff,