When I am old I’ll wear nothing
I’ll eat clockwork fishcakes from a Viking helmet
cry havoc with the next door neighbor’s dog
drive a Jaguar Mk 11 through fields of discordant popcorn
keep apoplectic pigs on the back seat
This will encourage farmers to make sausages
from a host of golden daffodils
When I am old I’ll cross the hand of time with silver
One can usually find him
alongside a vegetarian with a penchant for rabbits and Minotaur
Avant garde varieties of these species
can be found doing a waltz at the local launderette
whist cane toads pirouette to an aria from Tosca
Accompanied by Lawrence of Arabia on testosterone and lute
When I am old I shall not wash
I’ll seek my fortune cookie
in the Hung Fat Himalayan take away
next to the mortuary at Cockfosters.
These lines do not have any Freudian subtext
When I am old I’ll get a 14 million pound pension
I’ll spend my days living off the backs of befuddled supplicants
Who cannot afford to rent porn.
At dawn I’ll fire a shotgun into the clouds
Thus arriving at the conclusion that all life is pointless
A miasma of interrupted moments going on and on and on,
like a rinse cycle .All rinse cycles are pointless
Some rinse cycles are more pointless than others
When you are old I’ll tie a yellow rope around the oak tree
Hang you from it, claim insanity and get a free social worker
A trip to Gibraltar and money off vouchers from Tesco’s
I’ll stick two pencils up your nostrils and chant the litany
“I must go down to the sea to make clockwork fishcakes
Give me the sea mother, the sea, the sea
Todays best new poem was written by Ray Evans
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