Two comic poems on aging |
Lament on a Urinary Disorder Oh woe is me! I cannot pee, I wot not what’s amiss, A valve is locked; my plumbing blocked, I need, but cannot piss. Perchance some errant worm or fluke, A damned dam hath built, Or else my daily forage of flax and lentil porridge, Hath plugged my drain with silt. What art? What spell? What purgative or prayer, Can cure of my desp’rate plight? What exercise or pill? Might I, forsooth, shake something loose, If I roll down yonder hill? This cursed curse is getting worse, I know not what to think, Should I ride a bucking bronc, Or quaff a lethal drink? Oh blessed chance! I’ve wet my pants! So something worked and I’m uncorked, And the curst impediment is naught. It’s not a dream, For a noble stream does tinkle in the pot. My Heart Leaps Up My heart leaps up when I espy, A nubile maiden passing by, So was it when I was a lad, And so is it now I’m in my votage, And pray it last right through my dotage, Those rosy lips and swaying hips, Set my heart heart aglow. With every wiggle, My hormones jiggle and make me think Romance! Here comes one now. Would you care to dance? Tra la la la, Whoopeee! |