The clock is ticking... the country braces itself... are we expecting a bang? Or a whimper?
Meanwhile, here's another offering to those in need of a distraction. This was just published at Better Than Starbucks:
LOVE POEM À LA PARKER
My love, she is a pretty thing,
a dream of girlish charm,
a regular siren when she'd sing
(at least, a car alarm).
She laughs with such a dainty trill,
you'd never think of thunder,
and curses with such modest skill
the devils blush, down under.
She's witty, tasteful, wrinkle-free--
it's like she can't grow older!
(You won't hear otherwise from me:
she's reading over my shoulder).