85…90…95…

The snowbirds are roasting on the golfcourses

Featherless turkeys in the Sonoran sun

As cactus bloom from the precipitation

Of winter that wasn’t snow

With temperatures not 20 below.

The year rounders are waiting impatiently

Put upon hosts of unwelcome guests to

Pack their slow ass American gas guzzlers

And head back to Michigan

Wisconsin Minnesota Montana

And get the hell off our roads

And out of our spots in the parking lots

And our seats in the restaurants.

Bye-bye. See you never.

Sigh. Make that October