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October 25, 2012

OY, no joy and I just canít wait
For political ploy to please ABATE!
Counting the days
Through campaign-pap haze
The seventh wonít be one minute late!

But for now,
this minute, hour, day, week, month, year,
I need to plow
into what we have here.

In other words,
we have wood to cut,
and logs to unload,
letís make a rut upon this damn road!

With fields to mow,
mold under the eaves;
please rake and blow
these damp mounds of leaves!

With some minutes left over
Weíll sit on our asses
No four-leaf clover
For these toiling masses!