Dear Spring, you fickle bitch:
Quit your shit right now.
Quit your sub-zero wind chills;
Quit your hellacious spring snowstorms;
Quit your torrential sleet;
Quit knocking out my power;
Quit fracturing my hips on black ice;
Quit frosting up my car in the morning;
Quit pretending you’re really here then
Pulling the grass carpet out from under my boots.
You fickle bitch.
Quit your shit right now,
Or I will invite winter back to kick your lily-tempting
ass.
With love,
Every person in New England right now
