LISA PLUCKNETT
Adjusting to life as a widow
Maleny Sept 2022
Now I am obese and old,
Eating dinner all alone;
Wrinkled, mottled folds of fat
88 – is where I’m at.
Computer now recalcitrant,
Bloody mouse the same;
Darting and eluding me,
What’s their bloody game.
Won’t even bring up Solitaire,
Life just sucks – it isn’t fair.
Think I’ll write my own obit,
Old Age – I’ll tell you – just pure shit.
Milk in tea has just now curdled,
Fridge needs cleaning out;
Fruit and vegies going rotten
Like me – down in the mouth.
Like witches in a fairy tale,
My fingers gnarled and twisted;
I’m searching for my tweezer set,
As my chin is now be-whiskered.
My shadow trails behind me,
Like a camel with two humps,
One’s my tum and one’s my bum;
I’m feeling in the dumps.
Did the Spit Test – cheering up,
At least I’m Covid Free
Had Kahlua in my coffee
Lots worse off than me,
Can’t even see the outside temp,
Gauge fell off the wall;
My bum’s grotesque-not statuesque –
Life’s not a bloody ball
Hospital has locked me out
But today they’ll let me in;
Tell mouse – computer –
“Go to hell Technology’s a sin.”
Maybe I’ll take a Time Walk,
Go back to 1950;
No mobiles – no computers,
And life was pretty nifty.
No panty hose, no microwaves;
No contraceptive pills;
An aspro and a cup of tea
Cured everybody’s ills.
So now I’m skulking off to bed
And glugging down Kahlua;
And as I said – I’d like to toss
My computer down the sewer.