Posting on rec.running in response to annual bandit thread:

There will come soft rains
And the smell of the ground
And bandits will gather
Near Hopkinton town.

And schoolchildren lining
The roadsides to cheer
And workmen on porches
Filled with pizza and beer.

And coeds from Wellesley
Dressed in tremulous white
Whistling their whims
At each jogger in sight.

And not one will know
Of the flamewar, not one
will care at last
When it is done.

(With apologies to Sara Teasdale.)