Twas the night before Christmas in Wilkes Barre City
And South Main Street was looking especially shitty
The Vacancy signs were hung in the storefronts with care
In hopes that federal monies were soon to be there
Hookers and crack dealers were nestled all snug in their beds
Visions of Desi's Pizza danced in their heads
Red Jones in a kerchief and I in my cap
Had just finished a bender and started to nap
When out on the square there arose such a clatter
They're cutting down light poles -  and watching them shatter
South from the square we flew like a flash
Off to drink at Toppers and stare at some gash
Over the moons and the breasts and the new fallen snow
This strip joint is the only thing left in the city that generates dough
When, what to my eyes did appear
But a power drunken mayor and a council in fear
More rapid than eagles his cohorts they came
He whistled and shouted and called them by name
Now Kane and McCarthy, Leighton and Flood
Why can't I get any more money from HUD?
From the top of the footer to about just this tall
The start of a theater is to pour a whole wall?
His credit is so bad , it is cash for it all
Before the forms could barely dry
Before the wild accusations could fly
Up to the courthouse the mayor flew
With his big bag of bullshit, none of it true
And then in a twinkle I saw in the news
He lied to the council,  he even lied to youooze



As I hoped the Call Center and the Intermodal would turn things around
He screwed up the paperwork  -  not a grant could be found
A mayor dressed in camouflage from his head to his foot
His incompetence has turned Wilkes Barre to ashes and soot
He flunked out of teller school at United Penn Bank
He tried to sell forklifts and that career sank
His eyes are so bloodshot, his bullshit so scary
Is he an urban terrorist?  Or a stuttering fairy?
His tiny little legs hold up a mouth like a whore
When it comes to funding , the Chamber said no more!
Giving him money is like booze to a drunk.
Congressmen and Senators don't want to be seen with this punk
The hair on his head is gray just like slush
And under it lies a brain made entirely of mush
He has a broad face and a fat little belly
And he paid absolutely nothing to Carlo Santarelli
He was chubby and plump -  a motley old elf
After the next election, he'll be left home to play with himself
When confronted with issues he says "they berate me"
The Leader,  The Voice, they all f---ing hate me
Words ran together from his stuttering head
Soon we knew we had a lot to dread
He spoke not an understandable word and went straight to work
Robbing the city coffers like a little f---ing jerk
We all gave him the finger and thumbed him our nose
Wishing he'd burn up in the chimney -  up in smoke, as it goes
He jumped in his blazer and over the PA he did whistle And away he
did ride like a clown on a missile
An I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight
"I sure screwed up the City of Wilkes Barre alright"

--Alissa Marie Antosh