Summer sickness anti-poem

When your helmet is purely decorative

And your vanity comes before your life

When your house smells like cow shit all the time

And your morning chai is the best sedative

When the summer sun hits hard on your skin

Melting any clear thought you have found within

And your craving for some sanity to begin with…

Just Call me.

I’ll recite you an anti poem, You hippie bastard

I don’t know if it will help you or not

But at least we could have some good laughs, after all…

Isn’t humor worth the hazard?