Our Hallow’s Eve
All righty Colbertians (colh-BEAR-ee-uhns), Halloween is almost upon us. No doubt this weekend you were already beseiged by ghouls, goblins, and oh-so-clever kids dressed up as democratic lobbyists. As if it wasn’t creepy enough to be without our beloved Report for what was truly a dark, dark week. A week so dark … that it has inspired an evil, darkling Hallowe’en poem! A poem so evil, so terrifying that we could not in good conscience omit the apostrophe from between the two e’s, there to indicate the absent ‘v’ from the once-conjunctual ‘evening’, as in “All-Hallow Even”! If you don’t enjoy the poem, at least enjoy the holiday. I myself will be roaming the Nixon Library in Yorba Linda, desperate for a little piece of that liminal action - you know, the limited time when spirits can make contact with the mortal realm?
One Halloween night, my Colbertian posse,
I sat in my room with eyes bloodshot and glossy
On such an occasion I’ve nothing to fear
For I live Halloween every day of the year
Each day I see folk in the strangest of clothes
Assaulting the eyes and assaulting the nose
Burners and burnouts, hipster and hippie
I guess I ought not to be getting lippy
For freakiness is always the status quo
When you live in a city like San Francisco
But on this particular October’s day
I simply had no idea what I could say
For I had seen something so awful and grim
That chances of my forgetting it were slim
A lone trick-or-treater appeared at my door
With a countenance I have seen often before
It haunts me in sleep, tormenting me when awake,
The meanest thing my ‘magination could make
So what was this costume, all frightening and grossy?
None other than our Speaker Nancy Pelosi.
“The horror … the horror.”
-Marlin Brando, Apocalypse Now
Any ideas on where the poem should go from here?
I CHALLENGE YOU, NATION, TO BUST A RHYME LIKE IT’S QUITTIN’ TIME