Christmas in January

The poem below found its way to Bongo's e-mail 3-4 days after the December school board meeting in District 158. For those who don't remember, that's the meeting where about 10 community members spoke at the beginning of the meeting and asked for the resignations of Larry Snow and Aileen Seedorf. Bongo was there too and noticed that neither Mr. Snow or Mrs. Seedorf had the decency to look the speakers in the eye while they were making their comments. I don't know about them, but my momma always taught me that you should look at people when they are speaking to you.

The author of this poem is unknown, but it must have been someone who was there that night.

'Twas the Night Before Christmas: District 158 Style

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the board,
Not a Snowdorf was stirring, not even the Moore’s.

The comment forms were hung by the board president with care,
As the public readied to speak, beginning with Allare.

The press were all seated and scratching their heads,
While visions of tomorrow’s headlines passed through their heads.

And me with my 'kerchief, and tears on tap,
Had just settled down for another night of Snowdorf crap.

When out of public comment arose such a clatter,
I sat up in my seat to see what was the matter.

Away to a better tomorrow, my thoughts flew like a flash,
I shivered and shuttered and in my mind threw a bash.

My eyes rested on the spector of the black eyed Snow,
Which gave the lustre to the seeds of great minds that we must sow.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a maker of hay, that made me want for a beer.

He was a tall old driver, a bit gray not blonde,
And I knew in a moment it must be Don Bond.

More rapid than eagles his curses they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:

"Now, Kim! now, Mike! now, Tony and Shawn!
On, Kevin! on Larry! on, Aileen and John!

Called out by this man at the top of his voice,
"You took my cash away! cash away! cash away y’all!"

As the CFO leaves amid the wild hurricane fly,
We are faced with another obstacle, as we reach for the sky.

So up to the top for guidance we flew,
John laid out a vision, and challenge, too.

And then, in a twinkling, that could be seen from the roof,
The community was inspired as the ovations gave proof.

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
No lack of audacity in Snowdorf I found.

He was distracted for a moment, from his head to his foot,
And his pride was tarnished with ashes and soot.

A bundle of emails he had flung in his pack,
And he thanked Mr. Bond for patting his back.

The public’s eyes -- how they twinkled! Their dimples how merry!
Their cheeks were like roses, as they blasted on Larry!

The public comments lifted the five up from where they feel so low,
As many times they feel like yellow snow.

The stump of their tongues they held tight in their teeth,
As the smoke of the public fire encircled Snowdorf like a wreath.

He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he pounded the table like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right retched old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him cringe, if I do say so myself.

A wink of his eye and a 360 degree twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know he had become what we dread.

He spoke not a word, as he put in writing his work,
And filled all the blogs; oh what a jerk!

And laying his finger to pick his nose,
After turning off the I-pod, in his Hyundai he drove.

He sprang to his car, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew down Academic Drive in tistle.

But I heard him exclaim, as he drove past the entrance sign,
"Bah Humbug to All; I will Not Resign!"