NOTE: If you haven't already read it, I would encourage you to read this:
forum/viewtopic.php?t=1377&start=0&postdays=0&postorder=asc&highlight=summer+aint+reality
before reading the following poem.
---
second summer of everything
a new job by the ocean
you sell hotdogs to the tourists
while smiling at surfers
your buick looks lonely
in its faded burgundy
surrounded by white jeeps and
million dollar cadillacs
in the beach parking lot
the cage is unlocked and
20 turns to 10.
you can hardly see the sun
that's painted in the west
they quickly whisper in your ear
what no southerner wants to hear
summer is not reality and
huge hotels and cadillacs
aren't worth chasing after.
you're an alabaman
too close to the ocean
and only we know know
the reality of summer
