on in years
You find
yourself getting on in years
as it’s referred
to
as if
you were taking an exam
and the
subject chosen’s your life
or have
clambered up onto a highish hill
with a wonderful
view and overview
Overview?
Pull the
other leg!
On in years?
You sit
there buried in years
up to
your ears in years
and fed
up with the old days to your back teeth
The old
days aren’t the slightest bit old
Oh no,
in the old days the old days were old days
really
OLD old days
In my
childhood the old days had a ring
of accolades
and offended honour
raised
drawbridges
bottomless
moats
fair
maids and boundless fidelity
deceit
and swordplay and outdoor galleries
gradually
replaced
by Tordenskjold
and Musketeers
Admiral
Nelson’s blind eye
‘Each
bird its special song must find’
Countess
Danner
Florence
Nightingale
Ellehammer
four-feet airborne
bottom-
and hope-less trenches in Flanders
the
advance did not come in quick succession
but as creeping
metastases
as early
as my youth old days began to
merge suspiciously
with
that of my
parents in the twenties
but who
could smell a rat back then
we
weren’t brought up that way
And as
time passed time marched on
but the
old days moved faster
soundlessly
clandestinely
professionally
under
cover of night
so today
my childhood can be viewed
at the Worker’s
Museum
my youth
can be consulted
in already
antiquated encyclopedias
reduced
to a third of the price
sure to
be available soon on a floppy
And all your
old friends
are suffering
severely from old days
‘Can you
remember when in the old days
we
really went to town?’
You
realise that the poor bloke
is
referring to something that took place
only
twelve to fourteen years ago
what
else can you reply than
swiftly
hither my crossbow!
And when
your guileless grandchild begs
‘Grandpa,
tell us about the old days!’
what else
can you possibly reply than
Not now,
my treasure
they
only start tomorrow so I’ll
tell you
about them on Sunday!
On in
years?
Come off
it.
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