Written on the first day of August, 2007, this is meant to reflect all those weird little paradoces that Alabama Augusts tend to have.
This poem actually went through a fairly substatial rewrite. It was originally twice the size that it is now, but bits about back to school specials, rebel kids smoking, and some descriptions about August birthdays have all be trimmed out as not fitting with what I was going for. A few lines, also, have been rewritten.
Here comes August again, Rolly Polly dirty August with its Wet leaves, dry humidity, casual smiles, Frequent bikini ridden escapades, And a smell like asphalt streams. Here comes August again, And the rain, or lack thereof, Sunny skies or grey, swimming pools wind down, The wind swims up, Laughter and she is so very cute but not for me, Seeing how she is way over there and I Am sort of lazy. Free and green and laughter things In the air of all our blue tent. Here comes August again. Here comes august trains, Here come the missed oppurtunities, Here comes a year older, more or less. All shaking their rails. Great big sound like everything is going to Here comes August again, Saturdays wound down. The shout echoes. Here comes August again...
This poem written by W. Doug Bolden.
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The longer, fuller version of this text can be found on my FAQ: "Can I Use Something I Found on the Site?".
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