Come, friendly rains

Come friendly rains, come cold, come clouds!

The weather’s lovely out there now,

So bovine pricks will picnic out.

Storm over - stat!

Come, rains, and soak the hills and greens

To stop them filling up, obscene

With gits, with twits, with fools, with divs,

With mindless twats.

Mess up the mess they claim is fair -

A beach-trip here, a park-rest there -

As if the fucking virus scare

Is not for them.

And get the man whose barbecue

Is full of drinking wankers who

Are flouting the two-metre rule

Once and again.

But spare the knackered nurses, please,

Exhausted on their hands and knees

With cheap bin-bags for PPE:

It’s far from right.

It’s not their fault they’re in distress.

The Tories fucked the NHS,

And think applause will save their necks

On Thursday nights.

First it was Herd Immunity

They spoke of on the BBC:

And all those deaths in Italy?

Unfortunate.

But then the one with frizzy hair

Contracted it (from his au pair?)

You’ll bet he gets the best of care

Til it abates.

Come, friendly rains, come cold, come clouds

So picnickers won’t be around.

A long weekend means nothing now

So Isolate.