Not Getting Any Younger

I heard someone say recently that the trouble with being in your nineties is that you seem to be having breakfast about every three minutes. This reminded me of a poem I had published a while ago:

Radio Times

When I was going to live forever
our Radio Times came rarely: black & white,
lists of dance bands, The Brains Trust, (too clever
for me), and talks till after ten at night.

Now all the stations drone on night and day
as we're forever entertained and told.
Radio Times arrives more often and I say,
when it comes daily, I'll be very old.

 

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