An Ode to Pollen

I don't know what it is with this memory of mine.

I forget what happens each year at this time.

The flowers start blooming, the trees they awaken.

The grass, it starts growing, if I'm not mistaken.

I love the new Spring, all the promise and beauty.

And then I get hit with a nose that's all snooty.

(I mean, snotty.)

I forget that there's pollen attached to those flowers.

That fine yellow haze that possesses superpowers.

Because no matter how many times that it rains,

Pollen is still there, it always remains.

Its on my car, my porch, my driveway, my trash can.

Its even on the shirt of my UPS delivery man.

(Brown, how I love thee.)

I sneeze and I sniffle.  I wipe and I dab.

I wash my clothes and my hands and my face and my flab.

Nothing will help me to combat this pest.

Not Flonase, not Claritin, not Benedryl, I protest!

The only relief from dear pollen, I fear,

Is to drown my red nose in a pitcher of beer!