the ides of march

i don't believe in march.

nothing good

happens in march.

ever.

Julius Ceasar knows

that.

it's an indecisive month.

it might snow.

it might be eighty degrees

one day

and frozen rain

the next.

i look back on my records.

thumbing through

past calendars.

march. pfffft.

nothing

of importance,

nothing of value ever

comes about.

not a note of fun, or

enjoyment.

march stinks.

there's not a day in it

that i want to hold

onto.

blow away march

and shut the door on

your way out.