by Del. Marcus Simon (D-Falls Church)
‘Twas five nights before Xmas, when all through the state, Governor Youngkin’s proposals did circulate.
New taxes were hung on the digital sphere, On streaming and downloads, spreading holiday fear.
The citizens were nestled, snug in their apps, While visions of tax breaks danced in their maps. And mamma with her laptop, and I with my stream, Wondering why our budgets had to be so extreme.
When out on the internet there arose such a clatter, I sprang to my device to see what was the matter. Away to the news feed, I flew like a flash, To read about taxes and the government’s cash.
The moon on the budget of new fiscal dance, Gave the luster of taxes, a bewildering chance. When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a slew of new levies, oh dear, oh dear!
With a lame duck governor, with no signature win, I knew in a moment, it must be Youngkin. More rapid than eagles, his taxes they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now, Streaming! Now, Downloads! Now, Sales Tax and More! On, Software! On, Services! Tax them, I implore! To the top of the budget! To the top of the wall! Now tax away! Tax away! Tax away all!”
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky. So up to the budget-top, the taxes they flew, With a sleigh full of levies, and Governor Youngkin too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the news, The prancing and pawing of economic clues. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the chimney Gov Youngkin came with a bound.
He was dressed in red fleece, from his vest to his boots, And his clothes were all tarnished with taxes and soot. A bundle of bills he had flung on his back, And he looked like a co-ceo, just opening his pack.
The stump of a pen he held tight in his teeth, And the taxes encircled his head like a wreath. He had a broad face and was so very tall, That he looked, like he might once have played college ball!
He smiled quite broadly, a right jolly tall elf, And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had something to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And taxed all the citizens; then turned with a jerk. And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up to the third floor he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, “Happy Budget to all, and to all a taxed night!”
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