‘Twas the night before the election, when all through Norwalk
Not a creature was stirring, not even a Ewok;
The ballots were hung by the optical scanner with care,
In hopes that Norwalk Voters soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of no school dancing in their heads;
And candidates in their houses, and I at my keyboards,
Had just settled down for a long night of blog words,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the computer to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon reflected brightly on the new-planted sign
That called for the BOE to just all resign,
Then, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Dr. Sal Corda, and eight tiny reindeer,
He raised his fist, so angry and mad,
He yelled at my window, “your blog is so bad.”
“I can’t spend tax dollars without spineless members,”
“The voters seem angry, even past this September”
“The voters all say they want better scores”
“My administrators demand their own floors”
“To top it all off, my golf game has suffered,”
And the union is fighting my contract they offered”
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the blog
The pinging and ponging of a new comment log.
The voters were speaking, they all talked tough,
The BOE needed change, enough was enough.
Corda’s eyes — how they narrowed, his brow now a frown,
He realized there was indeed a new change in town,
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
I typed on the blog, as he drove out of sight,
“Go Vote for a new BOE, and to all a good-night.”
