We can't let the Connecticut senatorial primary go without a poem:

It's rare that we Jews
To the Senate send forth a proxy,
But still, must we snooze
While you grossly abuse
All our dearly-held views
Of the liberal orthodoxy*?

You're the President's darlin';
Dissenters? Don't need 'em!
I'd rather trust Arlen
To safeguard my freedom.
Your lust for publicity,
Your arrogant preaching,
Your almost-complicity
In Clinton's impeaching --
&nbsp &nbsp (I guess he feels pain for you;
&nbsp &nbsp If it were me,
&nbsp &nbsp I wouldn't campaign for you,
&nbsp &nbsp not for a fee.)
-- make me hate your leaps right
And desire to shun 'em;
I'm sick of the sight
Of your puppy-dog punim.

We thought you were fine
On the national ticket,
Now bloggers opine
You should take it and stick it.
You're losing your mojo;
Oh, say it ain't so, Joe!
We'd vote for Lamont,
If we could.
(But we cahn't**).

But don't get too glum,
And eat all your spinach,
And you just might become
First Selectman of Greenwich.

...........................................
*pardon the expression

**The nightquill publishing empire is based in California, the only state with an infrastructure large enough to support it.