In dubious honor of my having had to shovel snow not once, not twice, but three times already this 'season' even though it's not even offcially winter yet for three more days, I give you Ezra Pound:
Winter is icummen in,
Lhude sing Goddamm,
Raineth drop and staineth slop
And how the wind doth ramm!
Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,
An ague hath my ham.
Freezeth river, turneth liver
Damn you, sing: Goddamm.
Goddamm, Goddamm, tis why I am,
So 'gainst the winter's balm
Sing Goddamm, damm, sing Goddamm
Sing Goddamm, sing Goddamm,
To read the Middle English poem upon which Pound based this rare moment of humor, and to see and hear the medieval score, go here.
I wanted to take a picture of the "No Parking - Leaf Removal" signs sticking up out of mounds of snow, but I haven't had a chance yet. Pound will have to do.