We-B-Tan

The white skinned whales have beached themselves
in the annual quest for tan,
Another seasonal ritual
celebrated to the vanity of man

They cluster on beach front rookeries
all stretched out in uniform rows,
at times they pack like sardines,
all toes to nose to toes 

In the name of relaxation,
rejuvenation, health and fun
They prostrate themselves shamelessly –
exposed to the blazing sun

And by nightfall in total amazement
with skin scorched lobster red,
They sleep in anguished torment
as they toss and turn in bed

But once they’ve peeled and healed
and suppressed their short tempered fear,
They’ll join this masochistic ritual
once more again next year

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