by Bryan Clark (Alice Springs, Australia)
I've just turned eighty-something on my journey through this life,
But I'm fit as any fiddle and can still get into strife.
Though my heart is ticking funny and the sight has left one eye,
I still like chasing ladies... but I can't remember why.
My girth is getting bloated and I drive a motored chair,
I'm slightly diabetic and my skull is rather bare.
I fantasize like blazes when a lovely girl goes by,
I love to chase the ladies... but I don't remember why.
At the geriatrics’ picnic I was lured into the scrub
By a randy, wrinkled granny with a bottle from the pub,
But when she waxed romantic, I became a little vexed −
Though I sometimes catch a lady... I've forgotten what comes next.
When the nurses come to see me, it can be a little risky,
They stab me with a needle to prevent me getting frisky −
One gets rather tearful when she has to say goodbye −
Oh, I love to chase the girlies... but I can't remember why.
Sometimes my memory's not so good, the days pass in a fog,
I fail to flush the dunny[*] and forget to feed the dog.
But even so, in spite of all, I raise a hearty sigh −
While I can chase the sheilas[†]... though I don't remember why.
[*] Australian slang for toilet.
[†] Australian slang for woman/girl/female.