The Bard Went Down To Georgia

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Which really art not such a much to say,
As Georgia heat maketh sane insensate.
Each day too hot the eye of heaven shines
And glareth down on wilting mortal Man
Only bugs do this climate find sublime
Plus creepy kudzu choking all the land.
And this eternal summer shall not fade:
EIGHTY-FOUR DEGREES on Halloween's eve*.
With little comfort found within the shade
where snakes and beetles live and thrive and breed.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see
The heat's compounded by humidity.

*Seriously -- Halloween is tomorrow and it's 84 right now, with the hottest part of the day still to come.