May the ghost of T. S. Eliot forgive me.
Let us go then, you and I,
Before Right politics passes both of us by
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain Washington streets,
The lobbyists' retreats
And chicken dinners in one-night swank hotels
And taking time for whatever sells
Lobbyists that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question...
Oh, do not ask, ``Why is it? '
Let's take the money and make our visit.