408 – Not My Cup Of Tea

Poem number 408
Not My Cup Of Tea
I can cope with British weather –
All those rainclouds in the sky –
I can deal with ten cold callers
Trying to sell me PPI
I can live with public transport
And the trains that never run
Just as long as I’ve got coffee
And a toasted raisin bun.
I can tolerate Eastenders
With its never ending gloom
I’ll ignore the politicians
Spouting bile across the room
I can tune out Simon Cowell’s
Latest drone at Number One
Just as long as I’ve got coffee
And a toasted raisin bun.
Don’t feed me British ‘muffins’
Or I’ll get right on the plane
Don’t give me toast with marmite
Or I won’t come back again
And most of all remember
That I’ll run away and flee
If you ever, ever pour me out
A cup of British tea
You can label it Darjeeling
You can say that it’s Earl Gray
But no matter what you call it
I’ll just pour the stuff away –
Brooke Bond, Taylor’s, Twinings
It’s insipid muck to me
So save me from the torture
Of a cuppa British Tea!
It’s pathetic, vapid, see through
Cats have pissed with greater taste
If I had the choice I’d down a pint
Of fetid human waste
So make sure I’ve got my coffee
If you want to damp my ire
While a plate of toasted raisin buns
Served buttered, by a fire
Will go quite some way to making sure
I’m happy as can be
But don’t ever ever ever
Make me drink your British tea!

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