and endless summer doesn't seem romantic anymore

That line has lived in my head since I thought it up and noticed it's in iambic heptameter. Not because I know how to put it in a poem (I haven't written poetry since I was a teenager, and it was as bad as you might expect), but because songs and stories that romanticize summer are getting pretty hard to relate to. I started typing this post at the library where I work, dripping with sweat because…