I must say that I get rather irritated

When people moan at the hot weather

Just count the cold days you cunts

They outnumber the hot ones

Two billion billion two one


Normally it is because you are too fat

God did not make you fat and unattractive

Really before you started stuffing your face

You looked like one of those starving brats

Who still linger pathetically in ghastly magazines


I was in the Garden of England the other day

You know all beautiful lawns and Union Jacks

No council estates within ten galaxies

It is in Kent you idiot and maybe dear Sussex

Poems have been written about these gardens


You are not hot just badly dressed

Rubber and heatwaves do not mix

Just wear delicate cottons up to twenty

And if your flesh is weak please not bare

It so fucking easy to remain cool and nice



When the weather is hot I dream

Of country lanes full of English friends

Late of churches and golden fields

I cannot bear the thought that people like you

Exist in universes not far from my own