Old Folks Home Poem by Chris Bradley

I don't want to be young again, oh no
Andflaunt my bits on Instagram;
But sit at home by the stereogram
And watch my earlobes grow.

I don't wish to be young again, dear me
To play the maze of puppyish love
Or to dance with all the stars above
On hyperreality TV.

I don't wish to fiddle with buttons too small
On nano-enabled smart phones
Nagging me in hectoring tones
That Siri's expecting my call.

But let me grow apart alone
All on my own Jack Jones
Creaking with crusty cranky bones
Cocooned in my Home Sweet Home