There is a cure for the Summertime Blues:
Drink this posy,
don these tanooki jammies
and exalt 'til your knees break

swallow a grip of tadpoles
and drown your lover's reflection

This is how we do it.

Except it's not so much cure as inoculation:

bundle your bunnies,
keep them close;

this hair conditioner wards off fennecs
like huskies from a hang glider

swirl this peanut butter around
in yr ivory-coated sine waves a lil while, Broseph,
there ya go...

put on this pinafore and pirouette into a dapper-diaper dandy-lion :

slip into new skin,
black armor under
tawny
and prance

in the final analysis,
it's not so much inoculation as emasculation:
the emascular dystrophy
of a sweet & craven ingenue-cum-puppy.