By Margaret Atwood
This is the one song everyone
would like to learn: the song
that is irresistible:
the song that forces men
to leap overboard in squadrons
even though they see the beached skulls
the song nobody knows
because anyone who has heard it
is dead, and the others can't remember.
Shall I tell you the secret
and if I do, will you get me
out of this bird suit?
I don't enjoy it here
squatting on this island
looking picturesque and mythical
with these two feathery maniacs,
I don't enjoy singing
this trio, fatal and valuable.
I will tell the secret to you,
to you, only to you.
Come closer. This song
is a cry for help: Help me!
Only you, only you can,
you are unique
at last. Alas
it is a boring song
but it works every time.
--------
The DC area was under a Doom Watch, I mean a Snow Watch, that got worse over the course of Saturday. So in the morning we decided to go to Hillwood for the last day of the Festive Faberge holiday displays in the mansion as well as the Faberge exhibit in the Adirondack Building. They were both lovely, not crowded though there were more people than we expected given the Doom Watch, with Christmas trees decorated to echo Faberge items on display.
We stopped in Giant on the way home to stock up for Doom, I caught a bunch of Totodiles for January Pokemon Community Day, then we watched the Colts-Chiefs game (which did not go the way I wanted) and the Cowboys-Rams game (which did, and that more than makes up for the Colts losing). Afterward we watched some Tidelands, which has lots of sex and nudity if you're unconvinced by Australian drug kingpin fishermen and possibly evil mermaid sirens.
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