100 Is The New 90

I threw this together while I was mowing the lawn on Saturday.

Please forgive the sloppiness of the meter.  Whereas Samuel Taylor Coleridge's inspiration for his gibberish was opium-based, I can only afford the less fun muse of Sunstroke.  Meh, at least I finish what I start...

Enjoy!

With its air that's drinkable

And mercury unsinkable

To go outside's unthinkable!

Oh, how I hate this place.

Today 'twas one oh three point three

With forty percent humidity

That's one fifteen to you and me.

Man, I hate this place.

Whether this sauna's atypical

An anomaly statistical

Or merely something cyclical

I still hate this place.

I know it's hotter elsewhere, see.

I don't expect your sympathy.

I'm just whining via poetry.

But I still hate this place.