The poets of yore called this season sweet
They said that in the spring air, time it flies
But in the Valley’s smoggy, listless heat
Time shrivels into nothingness and dies
Like days when it’s past one hundred degrees?
You’ll love the highs that April has in store
The flowering of jacaranda trees
Will bring yard work and allergens galore
If nice weather you tend to prefer though,
This month may just set you to wondering
If Dante might have based his Inferno
Off the madness that’s L.A. in the spring
We’ve got two seasons here: rainy, and hot
The first is bearable; the other’s not