Ant Smith

All poems

In the summer

In the summer
The rubbish stinks
And clouds of flies
Spill out the bins
Cans of cider
Drip on my skin
As I put my
Old rubbish in

The paper shop
Is far too hot
They've had to lock
The freezer up
A pack of fags
A languid nod
A fat old man
A greasy spot

People shouting
From up above
Mothers pushing
Their little bugs
Train is coming
Now will it stop
If that bald man
He were to jump?

It's summertime and
It's far too hot and
England feels like
She's given up
Yes
It's summertime and
It's far too hot and
England feels like
She's given up

In the summer
The bounty rots
In the summer
I'm just a slob
In the summer
It's just my luck
In the summer
Too hot to fuck
In the summer
It rains and pours
In the summer
The death rate soars
In the summer
Time for a spree
In the summer
You're killing me

It's summertime and
It's far too hot and
England feels like
She's given up
Yes
It's summertime and
It's far too hot and
England feels like
She's given up

(In the summer
This england stinks
In the summer
The hate begins) x3