the weekly poem.com

Inevitable Indignity

No-one ever tells me Yes –

I’m constantly Perhapsed

My sinuses are in a mess

My arches have collapsed

The widget in my bladder’s broke

My nostril is on fire

My perineum’s up in smoke

My conscience is a liar

My tinnitus plays seven bells

Some vertebrae are missing

Inside my elbow something smells

I’m no damn good at pissing

And now you say the colour grey

Belongs to yesteryear?

If I could cheer, I’d try ‘Hooray’

But I’m beyond a cure

 

Click here for a Telegraph article

 

 

 

Inevitable Indignity

UCL researchers think they can turn off the grey hair gene. The Telegraph commented that (consequently) “future generations will no longer suffer the inevitable indignity of the ageing process”.


March 2 2016

POETRY KIT WEBRING

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