Holiday

If I lack awhile my share of contempt,

Sarcasm and dismission.

If my wit is gone, my scorn exempt

And my rancor has gone fishin',

Misanthropy fails like a friend,

And even brass may rust,

Jaundice pales in the end,

You understand, I trust.

My friends, I come to beg your grace

And lend me one more day off,

For the White Sox finally won the race

And now begin the playoffs.

And to my friends in Minnesote,

The top of our great nation,

I offer warmth, my bread and coat,

And my silo full of justification.

SWEETNESS, n.  Bitterness.

And rabbit rabbit!

And Eid mubarak, as appropriate.