Marge: I wrote a poem for you this afternoon, Homer. It's called,
`To a Husband'.
Homer: Okay, okay.
Marge: (Ahem.) The blackened clouds are forming.
Homer: Oh, give me a break, Marge.
Marge: Soon the rain will fall.
My dear one is departing.
But first, please heed this call.
That always will I love you,
My one, my love, my all.
-- "One Fish, Two Fish, Blowfish, Blue Fish"
