Things I love about spring:

The smell, not the taste of candy floss, burning off last year’s barbecue sauce,
sugar donuts, carnival fries, thawing dog poop and vagrant surprise.
Burning gas mixed with fresh cut grass, spring fever pass to available ass,
more blossoming cherries than a porno mag. I wish I had a tail I could wag.

The first day of playoffs. Every team has a chance. Pink legs in premature short pants.
Shaking hands, kissing and hugging, April Fools gags and good natured bugging.
Like a bear waking up from hibernation, this nation is chasing some recreation.
The winter was cold and a bit of a drag, I wish we all had tails we could wag.

Folks hunting more than Elmer Fudd. Spring buds budding and buds smoking bud.
The masters of golf fight it out at Augusta. Did Tiger compete this year? He musta.
The boys of summer shiver in spring training. They give it their all, unless it is raining.
If I seem sentimental, a bit of a fag, I still wish we all had tails we could wag.