My Least Favorite Thing Poem by Patty Rose

Got all ready to go to the beach
be a perfect day the weatherman said
but here I sit out of the cold in a movie theater seat
wondering how many holes he has in his head

Last time it was a fishing trip to the keys
no chance of rain he said with confidence
every news station was quick to agree
in our van we watched the downpour that made no sense

What is this mystery of predicting the weather?
Is it too much to ask what tomorrow will bring?
In fact, there’s so many mistakes it makes me wonder
do they just step outside for the dodo bird to sing?

Must be a pretty tough job though to be wrong all the time
as we set out on another promising day for the beach
having lost all trust in their foolish scientific rhyme
with rain gear in hand for the unreliable way they preach