I’m not going to say the day’s bloody hot
My sweat’s obviously real
As the ice in the fridge looks like molten steel
I’m not going to say the south pole’s defrosted
The public are screaming true
As the polar-cap’s sheer faces, drop like morning dew
I’m not going to say the air we breathe is polluted
The evidence blows right in front of you
As we smell the stench, it’s enough to make you spew
I’m not going to say politicians value money more than you
Their filled pockets are blatantly on view
As they corruptly succumb to greed of the chosen few
I’m going to rant and rave, even if it’s too hot
Losing my block, to stop this embellished rot
The heat is on them to cool off our plot

Ivor Steven (c) 2019

Cyndi on my bed last night …












