Season of sweat.
Dripping down back,
Pouring into butt crack.
Leaving stains under pits and breasts,
Thus ruining designer dress.
Season of naked, fat folk.
Big boys named Bubba in muscle shirts,
Chubby chics named Yolonda in mini skirts,
With hemlines raised,
Far above ham hocks that should be braised,
And bending over periodically
To pick up industrial bags of cheese puffs and cartons of Ale-8 One.
Season of daytime drag.
Trannies come forth on the Fourth,
And march in the light...what a fright.
While we masochistic patriots,
Stand on Main Street in the scorching heat...
Season of bug bites between chafed thighs.
Flies on pies...coconut cyarn.
Chiggers burrowing beneath skin.
Mosquitos sucking bourbon-infused blood,
Then flying under the influence to their Citronella grave.
Season of the pool-pissing plague.
Scabby and sun-burned in bitsy bikinis and board shorts,
Galloping through the grocery on blackened, bare feet,
Screaming down my once peaceful street.
I pray for the day...
When they are put back in those precious cages called elementary schools.
Season of suckiness.