After a long and glorious Spring, the Summer season is upon us in the Nation's capital. The traditional signs are beginning to appear: squaddles of interns wandering about the streets in a dazed fashion snarling traffic. Gaggles of Greenpeacers congregating in Metro entrances, blocking the smooth flow of traffic as they urge people to sign petitions. And just today I saw a man walking over the Key Bridge his Oxford shirt dangling from his hand, as he bared his nude torso to the elements. It was not an aesthetically pleasing sight, and I hope this is NOT the start of some sort of trend in DC. Please, gentlemen, keep your shirts on. Let the seersucker suit and a nice Panama be the height of your summer frivolity.

Still, as the season is upon us, I present to you, from the pen of my good friend, Miss Maximally Cool, a ditty to the American condiment. Yes, this is how we citizens of the nation's capital keep ourselves occupied during the "work" day. One can read only so much of an asbestos bill at the time.

Ketchup

Shall I compare thee to a mayonnaise?
Thou art more lovely, more smooth and scarlet
Mayo globes like celluloid as on it you gaze,
And its expiration has all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the sun on checkouts shines,
And that pungent smell can serve as a ruler
To avoid the egg-based condiment that can decline
By chance or nature's course when outside the cooler.

But thy sweet scarlet ketchup shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of natural mellowing agents.
Thou need not hide deep in the cooler's shade,
But sit out, an icon to Christians and to pagans.
For so long as men can taste and eyes can see
So long live ketchup, to give good times to you and me.