Scales of Injustice

Pick up the leaflet
pick up a pen
Rate on a scale of nil to ten
how broken is your heart
how much your life is rent apart
Rate your mental state
Is it three or six or eight?

Rate on a scale of nil to ten
Where nil is
I don't give a toss about them'
And ten is
'I'll never feel intact again'

Transnational Anthem

God save one's gracious tax
Long live one's noble sacks
God save one's tax
Send it on holiday
Make sure the proles all pay
I own the islands anyway
God save one's tax

One has to be much shrewder
Deposit some in Bermuda
And some offshore
Take all the dosh one's got
Fill up one's golden pot
And stash it on the Royal Yacht
Then get some more

Maps of My Baps - a Year On

I have just come back from hospital having had my mammaries grammed. Yes, it is nearly a year since my surgery, and to comammarate this anniversary, my boobs must be squeezed and scanned again. A trip down mammary lane. Enough of the mammary puns now, please.

This will be an annual check to see whether the cancer has come back. Had I not already had breast cancer, I would be having this mammogram once every three years, so I feel rather safer than if I hadn't.

The procedure itself remains the same boob-squishingly hilarious process that it was last year. I note to myself how matter-of-fact I am about these things now. It's part of life, specifically of life continuing.

Hill Fifty

Step up to the hilltop
take in the view

Look! There in the distance!
the places you played
as a child, where your journey’s
foundations were laid

And there is the path
which led you from home
Growing as you went
coming out on your own

And there in the foothills
where I joined you to walk
The soft, easy road
then the rocks, then the fork

Because

I asked because I didn't know
I stayed because I couldn't go
I told because I couldn't show
I wilted when I couldn't grow
Said yes because you won't take no
I'm high because I can not cope with low

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