‘Twas The Night Before Tax Day

‘Twas the night before Tax Day, when all through the house

Every paper was shredded, even the deed to my house;

The stock receipts were flung into a landfill in Montclair,

In hopes that Uncle Sam would eventually not care;

My children were nestled, my wife filled with dread;

While visions of court summons danced in her head;

Momma in her Snuggy, me in my Ambien nap,

It’s hard to settle your brain, afraid of wiretap,

In my mind it is difficult to quiet the chatter,

But the face I put on says “nothing’s the matter.”

Out from my bed I bounded in a flash,

To check once again for my hidden stash. 

Dawn broke through the curtains on my mountain of blow,

I did a quick bump, the kids will never know,

As I looked up from the mirror, what did appear,

But a van in my driveway with an emblem unclear,

10 FBI agents jumped out so lively and quick,

I swore very loudly and I didn’t say “frick.”

Men with beagles descended, onto my lawn they came,

Then the driver got out, shouting to the men by name:

Now Agent Harris! Now Agent Forrester! Now Agent Tristan!

form a perimeter and then we can blitz them! 

Three take the porch, and three over the wall!

Smash down the door and account for them all!

They’d come in the night as the warrant ink dried,

They were here to arrest me so that I’d be fried,

Up on the rooftop the sound of combat boots grew,

Then came the concussion grenades and the tear gas too–

They rolled down through the chimney, poured in from the roof

Followed by dogs bearing more than one tooth.

I ducked down my head, to prepare for the hounds,

But an Agent called them off, with whistling sounds.

He was dressed in all black from his head to his foot,

When he slapped on the cuffs to make sure I stayed put;

As I laid on my belly with his knee in my back,

His men gathered my family and told them to pack.

His eyes— how they gleamed, he was so very merry!

“Embezzlement” he said, with “possession as the cherry!” 

“I dont have drugs” I said “how do you know?”

“That stuff on your nose” he said “I know it’s not snow.”

A dog bounded up, with my stash in his teeth,

They’d found it behind my Georgia O’Keeffe.


The charges I faced I learned from the telly

And then I went back to my jail cell so smelly.

The prosecutor was fierce despite looking like an elf,

But I pleaded the 5th, not incriminating myself;

The judge took a deep sigh then lifted his head

My hands were a-shaking and my mind full of dread;

Before he spoke, he put on a smirk,

Then he leaned forward and called me a jerk,

“You defrauded your investors right under their noses”

“How could you expect this would all come up roses?”

“If it wasn’t for the SEC blowing the whistle,”

“You’d keep eating steak while your clients got gristle,”

“You are sentenced to 6 months probation , now get out of my sight.”

Another financial crime, prosecuted just right

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