An Ode to Sunburn.
You crimson little fucker,
I thought I’d seen the last of you in Barcelona last summer,
But you hid behind a cloud on this overcast day,
Silently watching me like a stalker, hitting out your cancer rays.
And whilst I (thought I) worked it down there on the beach,
Stripping off my layers to the bikini I got on the cheap,
You mocked my SPF20 and laughed at my English skin,
Boasting how you’d make me sorry with your cocky little UV grin.
So when I returned to the hotel room this balmy, still evening,
I looked in the mirror expecting to see my face all nice and gleaming,
But this was your moment of glee; your masterpiece you did unveil;
To which I spluttered and recoiled, “Sunburn you little shit – I’m off the Pantone scale!”
You’re hot, you’re sore, you’re ugly, you really fucking itch,
You make people slap my beacon arms you irritating little bitch,
You taunt, you laugh, you smirk, you cruelly sodding jeer at me,
Yes, well done, you tricked me again; hurrah for my tan-hungry naivety.
And now I have to brave it, walking around like it’s totally ok,
To have two blonde caterpillar eyebrows nestled on a lobster everglade,
On my mind it weighs heavily: what the hell am I going to say,
Back home at the office whilst doing my smug holiday bray?
I’ll stand there like a traffic cone with fluorescent skin I cannot hide,
My colleagues will rip it out of me – oh what comedy you did provide,
They have the memories of elephants; they will forever give me strife,
You haven’t just ruined my holiday, Sunburn, but also my entire fucking life.