It's too hot and I'm too sweaty
sneak peak: a poem about very hot weather in London
It's too hot and I'm too sweaty.
~Ultra Shine~ does not feel pretty.
My duvet has been banishèd;
The cover alone adorns my bed.
Olive is shedding all her hair;
Those tiny strands go everywhere.
I brush her every chance I get.
I'm lucky if she tolerates it.
Next to me, she's panting now
But no beads of sweat upon her brow.
Dogs can only sweat through their paws,
One of their *very very few* flaws.
London is not built for this heat,
And heaven forbid you should need to meet
A friend who lives a tube-ride away...
Maybe see them another day.
Shops sell out of all their fans,
And paddling pools pre-hosepipe ban.
Pimm's finds itself in short supply,
As does the humble strawber-rye.
But let us not forget, oh no,
The havoc that is wrought by snow,
When London grinds right to a stop
Even for a single drop.
So let's not wish the sun away,
Let's soak it up and seize the day.
And when it is no longer here,
We know it will come back - even hotter and sweatier - next year.