3:00 p.m. at ITP

'Twas 3 p.m. at ITP and all through the halls,
scientists began stirring, especially postdocs overall.

Senior scientists were nestled all snug at their unix,
as visions of crunchy chocolate seemed to dance across their view-nix.

The cookies were being placed neatly in a row,
as physicists descended the stairs down below.

They hovered and paced at the appointed spot,
in anticipation of chocolate and tea and Hair Raiser that's hot.

When what to their eager eyes should appear,
but, Erin or Brett, two very tall students,
with cookies so dear.

Alas, as they gathered and chanced for to reach,
a gray-haired man, so lively and quick,
swooped in and gathered his chocolate in one fast lick.

Now those with fingers, not quite so quick,
looked to see if there were still cookies to pick.

Their voices were soft, barely a whisper,
until they could see cookies, crisper and crisper.

They laughed and they sighed and they sang as a much relieved chorus,
cookies remain! We give thanks to the NSF and to Boris.

Now in the room there arose noise like thunder,
as voices joined in and cookies went down under.

As they began to discuss which theory is right,
the gray-haired man laughed and was soon out of sight.

Thumb to his nose and quick as a whistle,
he's off to the patio for cigar and string theory you'll listle.

And I heard him say as he talked science into the night,
cookies for all and to all a grand night.

by Kathy Hart