Sun Worship

A whale of the time on the beach,
All Ambre Soleil and blubber:
The soles of the feet feel like rubber,
The skin like an African leech.

Hunks in their elephant trunks,
Eyeing the women like candy:
Testosterone makes them feel randy,
Oil means they all smell like skunks.

Thongs for the memory pass
As the sun burns the older but balder:
Belt-buckles hotter than solder,
The English lie down on the grass.

The afternoon's fixed as a grin.
Everyone's sozzled. The ants are
Scoffing the snacks, as a cancer
Works it way in through the skin.

Rabbits released from their hutch,
The bathers cavort, are in clover.
In the Rover, it's over for Rover,
Where the steering-wheel's too hot to touch.

From the book Rime Present