Marathon Monday, 2012. A Poem

(With sincere apologies to Mr. H.W. Longfellow)

Listen my children and I shall tell
Of a marathon forecast that's as hot as Hell.
On the 16th of April just three days hence
Every one of those runners will think, "I must be dense
To believe I'll survive twenty-six point two
Miles under a sun that'll turn pavement to goo."
And yet there'll be thousands from Podunk to Kenya
Jogging and plodding and panting, and then ya
Will hear the sirens screaming down Comm Ave
Scooping up folks who obviously must have
Forgotten to hydrate at each water station
Now suffering fits of severe dehydration
But hooked up to IVs they'll give thanks to Buddha
That none of them ended up soiled like Uta