kidattypewriter

Saturday, April 27, 2013

Variations

For some reason I really like sending up T S Eliot.

I grow old... I grow old
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. 

T S Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old I grow old
And the nurse says I haven't taken my medication this morning either.

***

I grow old I grow old
And I think I am having a heart

***

I grow old I grow old
I am not wearing any trousers either.

***

I grow old
And tomatoes.

***

I grow I grow
And life says Deepak Chopra is all about growth
Or is that my daughter
Anyway

***

I grow old
Is the train always this late?

***

How come I grow old
But don't shrink anything,
Just shrink
Every day the same
But
Less?

***

I grow old I grow old
Until one day
I don't. 

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