Theres something about the summer
— the way the sun
Turns skin pink,
A blush which will
Fade,
Though the memories will not.
The way the light breeze
Caresses fiery skin,
The way the trees
Provide shaded cover
For adventurers
Looking to rest.
But for the life of me
I cannot describe
In avid detail
How sunkissed skin
Makes even the prettiest
Tan crayon jealous,
And i cannot possibly
Begin to match the blue
Of the sky
To the lines
On my paper.

Did you know tans are anti-cultural.
The whiter shades of pale are chic.
Black skirts and dark shoes
Will highlight your commitment
To culture.
White's the new brown.

The Jazz Singer is pitchy.
Oh, Mammy!
The shade's wrong.

Apple peels of burned skin,
Unbroken, curly:
Who can skin the longest
Down to the fresh, unburned dermis.
We didn't know about culture
As we watusied across the sand.