September is the grandest month of all in this locality,
When natives get to reassert their territoriality.
Because, you see, our homes are free at last of lingering pests,
Including all those leeches who just recently were guests.
Like Uncle Bob and Aunt Rochelle who live in Tallahassee,
Where everything that we have here? They have there too, but classy.
They found our beaches rocky, and the Ducks just drippy buses;
The EMP had zilch for them but Jimi Hendrix's trusses.
The Market? Way too busy. And the Needle too expensive.
All the pigs on sidewalks Aunt Rochelle found quite offensive.
But now they're gone; you've kissed them off and driven them to Sea-Tac,
Rejoicing to yourself that they will never, ever be back.
But so much better than the tourist exodus each fall,
Is that other group that amscrays and so raises our morale.
For three months you endured them, finding "projects" they could do,
'til finally you gave up, so they were just as bored as you.
But now thank God the kids have split! Instruction's finally started!
Our tots are getting high-schooled, grade-schooled, TOPSed, and kindergarted!
They have their little backpacks and their tablets and their pens,
They're "back-to-school" enabled, while we just have the grins.
The papers soon will carry news of Bulldogs, Rams, and Beavers,
Eagles, Vikings, Quakers, and all the other young achievers,
Smashing into one another, while way up in the stands,
Parents freeze their heinies to the sounds of marching bands.
Sometime this year we're sure to hear a parent's warning call
About a teacher's shoe a'tapping in a schoolhouse men's room stall;
We'll have lawsuits and expulsions, and of course a post-game fight,
But that's the price we pay to get the kids out of our sight.
We hope they'll learn a thing or two, but if the truth be known,
What's really most important is: No child left at home.
