But I thought about Spring so far, and it sucks.
Spring is rotten to its core right now.
I damn-near froze my own ass off at a lacrosse game the other day.
And the storms -- please!
Rain here, snow there; typhoon here, blizzard there.
Is there such a thing as a melting point?
Will the ice on the rivers ever crack and float downstream?
Will I ever feel warm again?
What do my toes feel like?
I cannot even remember since I have been cold for that long.
But write a witty spring poem?
I got one for you:
Violets are blue and roses are red.
I'm so fucking cold, I think I may be dead.
Twinkle, twinkle little star,
Wait, that's not a star. That's another fucking snowflake.
Welcome, Spring, I hope you're happy.
Here's my poem; I hope it's sappy.
