Post Mortem by Dave Walklett
He eases the front door closed on the last departing guest
listens to the silence.
Returns to the melancholy
to which he’s become accustomed.
Forty-three years together
a mere moment:
a lifetime since she’s gone.
When we retire
we’ll move to a smaller house and
we’ll buy a campervan
take a cruise
we’ll lose our eyesight and our health
we’ll watch each other die.
He eases the front door closed on the final mourning guest
and wonders what he will do
Dennis Kelly by Dave Walklett
Dennis Kelly loved his telly;
Watched it all the time.
Dad said: ‘Son
Your eyes’ll go square,
Your brain’ll turn to slime.’
But Dennis Kelly kept watching telly:
He laughed off what his dad said.
‘Til one day in the mirror it shocked him to see
There was STUFF coming out of his head.
It oozed from his nose, from his mouth and his ears;
Out from his eye sockets too.
And ten minutes later all that was left
Was a Dennis-sized pile of GOO.
Dad shouted loudly ‘I told you so!’
But his Mum just cried and cried.
They scooped the GOO into a colourful pot
And set it beside their bedside
And now to the moral of this sorry tale:
Be careful what you do.
Don’t watch too much telly
Like poor Dennis Kelly:
You might end up as GOO too.