Ninety eight degrees on the south shore
Says our infamous Margaret Ore
She’s On Our Side trying to hide
From the sunbeam’s scathing stride
When the air thick with perspiration
From the humidity is in preparation
For bouncing around the heat in its atoms
Magnifying the swelter, the beat of our heart drums
It’s too hot to eat. too hot to sleep. too hot to fear
The hurricane season is near. Why do we even live here?
To get out of the heat you gotta get out of the kitchen
Oh don’t be coy. I’ll just sweat and go down kickin.
New Orleans is just closer to the sun
You can only enjoy it when the day is done.
Brooke, age 17