(The tune of Help Me Make It Thru the Night was running thru my mind)
I can’t play hopscotch any more
Nor skate across an icy floor.
I know headstands would break my neck
I drove my car and caused a wreck.
It’s hard to write a funny verse
‘specially when you’re glum and terse.
I wonder if I’ll ever see
A poem that’s sadder than my knee.
Oh I know it could be much worse—
I could have Trumpkin as my nurse,
Pointing at me and saying he
Would never make a pass at me.
Now I don’t have to clean my plate
Or remember to stand up straight
Oh what fun to say shit and damn
While chasing Mary’s little lamb.
Yet no one tucks me in at night
Or hugs me as my mother might.
Home made peach ice cream’s the best
I’d not swap it for all the rest.
I STILL KNOW
Little orphan Annie can say
Watch out for the Goblins today
They’re bigger than ever
And terribly clever—
Citizens United foretold
The capitalist manifold
That can squeeze you to death,
Smirking with glee at your last breath.
I guess there’s a Devil after all
Call him a Goblin, you say?
But the evil’s outrageous,
And it’s even contagious!
For the next century—
I’m outta here.
Though not very funny, I guess
The whole thing’s a horrible mess.
Oh I’m moved now to barf
Do watch out for my scarf.
Maybe it’ll be better after
My next round trip down home.
I’ll be pushing up sod
Only second to God
You watch; I’ll be back.