Fiction

'Twas the night before election day, when all through the city,
Not a creature was stirring … oh, what a pity.
The signs were all lined by the roadside with care,
In hopes that their candidate would soon take the chair.

The people were curled-up with angst in their beds,
While nightmares of glad-handers blazed in their heads.
With their suits and their ties and their pamphlets galore,
I swear I'll scream if I see another at my door!

When from out on the lawn there arose a great patter,
I slumped from my bed to see what was the matter.
To the window I trudged with laze in my steps,
Who was outside? I really couldn't care less.

The fog was so thick that I barely could see,
The lights of a pickup parked behind my oak tree.
When, what to my deeply reddened eyes should appear,
But a tall suited figure with a grin insincere.

His beady black eyes; his fervent ambition,
I knew in a flash it was a dreaded politician.
Oh Lord, oh no! I'm sure to go insane!
With a furious sweep, I tore open the pane.

"Be gone! Be gone! " I cried out to him loudly,
"Whatever your standings! Whatever your party!
I've endured all your nonsense! I've read your flyers too!
I already know who I'm voting for, and it isn't you!"

"But sir!" he protested, "Tomorrow's the day!
As long as there's time, I can still have my say!"
"It's late and I'm tired!" I retorted in a shout,
"I'd rather sleep than hear what your campaign is all about!"

"No need to get angry," he gave an unwilling nod,
And back to his banner-filled pickup he trod.
But he turned and he hollered before speeding from sight,
"Happy voting to all, and to all a good fight!"