A Yorkshire Lads' Night Out...

Are you theer?
Aye, I am, well, I’m near…
Puffin’, ! How many effin'
steps to get here?"
I said “now then!”
He said “reet!”
“How are you?”
He said “reet…Aye neat!”
“Ar thee?”
I said “Yeah!”
“Tha’s alreet then!”

I said “sha we gerron then?”
He said “Aye…
Me stomach thinks
me throat’s been cut
and Ah'm as dry as uz
father's back ginnel…
Let's av that sup.”
Eh… That’s a reet good drop”.
It should be it’s from
our dad’s own shop.

Tekkin' in the best view in With
we supped and enjoyed the sunset view
ower’t town & sea from lighthouse top.
Aye, T't Keeper's a mate a marn!
I said “I think I’ve had more than you.
So he’d  another big-un to level it up!
“I’d say we probably
drank a tad too much”…
cos we staggered a bit on’t
way back home.
“We’ll that were gradely…
“Al si thee then” he said “stay well”.
Aye he said “an you as well!”

This is something I wrote to be read at my Cousin Rene's funeral.

Oh My! I'm zooming down the Spanish coast... dipping my toes in the Med.
But you might find me on a Cornish Campsite drinking Pina Coladas instead.
Or it could be me, arm-in arm with good pals in pre-war summers... painting Withernsea red!
To all of those who saw me through the darker days I am thankful that you helped & guided...

Oh My! ...But I'm better now... I'm free... it's been a trying time, but once again... I can be me!
And there's something else I've just realised. Do you know what? I can see!
The last few years haven't been kind to me. Apparently I hadn't been making much sense.
I knew inside what I wanted to say... being with me must have made people nervous... tense.

But now the pressure's lifted, for loved ones and for me.
I was ready - went on too long. Now I'm on the 'other side'.
From now you’ll hear me on the wind in the trees and my whispers, in the surf and the tide.
I'm pain free, light and frothy again, teetering on heels... I’m a dizzy apricot blonde... No need for me to hide...
I might even drop in on you as I'm told you can... to say a quick thanks for all who helped - or tried...

Oh My!... and yes....people to thank? It's like an Oscar speech...
there's a list....but amongst all one stands out... shines like a star...
My Chef... my Chauffeur... my Ears.... my Eyes... my Angel... my Wingman... My Ken!
By my side through bad times, the good times and all those difficult bits... Not the now - but the then...
My Multi-tasker, My Carer...My Rock... My 'Rock & Roller'...
I remember we used to jive way back when...
And as the old song goes, I'm sure ... We’ll meet again!
Oh My!

The fabric of our society is slipping.
It’s so transparent you CAN see right through.
We’ve got a posh yob thinking he can do the leader’s job.
He knows he’s *****, that his detractors are right,
and he should throw the towel in right now.

The algorithm’s not the only thing that’s ******.
our future’s definitely been well & truly chucked.
the wrong people are being knighted
the proles are being slighted and
we’re being seen as a laughing stock round the world

it’s the blind leading the partially sighted,
where the grass roots need just  to be united
and who is it who can handle that job?
Not anyone from this current motley mob?
It’s not pretty… It’s downright ugly!

Ted Slade was a Communist, an Atheist,
a Realist, a Pragmatist. All the ‘ists’…
Even as you’d see from his poetry…. a perfectionist.!
So, right to be bitter now and then,
about how the so called maker made him.
I’m right there with him on that.

How can there be a superior being… The Big ‘G’
The creator of all things living and breathing
when, he dished out the proletariat’s grand life plans…
The stoop, the damaged flesh, retracted blood and bone,
the twisted hands.

After he’d fixed the sun,
the moon and the stars
and the creatures of the sea,
he made man in his image… his own
the likes of you and me.
But Ted picked up a duff one,
an already beaten body.
Spine twisted, lungs restricted.
Unfit for purpose - ****** up.

Like a life jacket with a puncture
If he had jumped overboard with it
he would have drowned.
He’d picked up the parcel in the warehouse
that had already hit the ground.
One that shouldn’t have made it beyond quality control.
If he’d had a hand in a design that was plainly odd
he would have chosen the super deluxe model for his starring role
So he just ignored everybody else’s God
Just got on with the job…
And as such, scored an even more brilliant goal!

Politicians, when questioned, who begin their answer with “So”... Those who waffle when questioned and yet they clearly don’t know.
Juggling “ums”, “erms” and “aahs” when struggling to avoid the truth.
It alienates, infuriates and generally makes those interviewed sound unprepared, uninformed, dense, almost uncouth.
But that doesn’t stop them!

The nation’s thirst for updates demands Government be contrite. Approaching difficult situations, yeh - but ours, dropping ******* left & right.
It means an address from a hapless minister almost every night.
Each department must have top aides quaking in their boots
because the media correspondents, incisive, sharp, erudite and firm
shoot tricky questions, deliberately, to make the politicos squirm.

It shines a light on what the country needs... clear thinking, logic common sense, honesty, truth, stealth and less guille.
Not subterfuge, not **** covering,“let’s dodge the bullet” style. Certainly not ten grand extra for having to work from home.
But sharper more contrition, put yourself in our place for a while! We want to be reassured, buoyed up, not consumed with bile.

You get more support and sympathy if you just tell the truth!

I’m sorry I had to leave so suddenly that night.
And even more sorry to know that you had the shock
of finding my ’not wanted on the voyage’ body.
The useless carcass I left behind.
That shouldn’t happen to anyone,
to find your lifeless partner by your side…
That’s how you’d see it anyway.

But me? I’m off now into the wide blue yonder,
never to return. Not as you knew me anyway.
These are the rules I’m afraid.
Apparently some people do come back.
****** Spiritualists & Clairvoyants… They make us all,
up here - seem like part timers.
Not that I wouldn’t… But it’s complicated.

There’s a kind of apprenticeship,
a protocol to follow…There are still rules
even in death. There has to be a trade off.
No pain… no anguish…
And, you can just dip in and out of your old
family’s life - PAs… Personal Appearances.
That’s what 'Head Office' calls ‘em

Pacifies the loved ones that you are settled.
In the dying mode of things that is.
Really what you’re doing… as a soul,
is waiting for a suitable donor body
then you're born into a new family!
That's the way it goes!

To end on a lighter note… Kind of makes you wonder
why there aren’t more child prodigies around…
Maybe only the smartest ones make it back! Who knows?

All that knowledge gone to waste… Just saying!

Dean's found a pebble on the beach today
a warning of a meteorite coming our way
it shows of their route from the planet 'With'.
in the constellation or 'Urn' -
sent 6 million years ago to the day,
just letting us know they’re on their way.

It's a prophé 'See' - It’s all to do with our own growth,
our development from the primordial slime
and to miss their arrival would be a crime…
So get down to the beach for about teatime.
Tell them when they turn up - and before they exit
they’re just in time to help us eradicate Covid & Stop Brexit!

I’m feeling a bit ‘other worldly’
like you do coming out into the light
from the dark of the cinema
in the daytime obviously…
Or that first few steps after
taking off your roller skates…
Remember that?

When, in your head,
you’re still gliding, sliding
rather than stepping
and stumbling.
I’m starting to miss the
contact of others.
Those I wouldn’t maybe
normally see anyway.

How mad is that?

But it’s the knowing
that you CAN
even though you CAN’T
… Don’t want to
that’s what’s important.

I’m looking for closer hugs
rather than distant nods,
smiles, waves or shrugs
Looking for the WILL
rather than the WON’T.

Looking for the SHALL We?
rather than WE SHOULDN’T!
the COULD rather
than the COULDN’T.

We’ve all just got the
LONGING to meet
rather than just having the
THRONGING to beat.
We all have a yearning
for normality and
I’m worried about
losing my personality
I’m ready for the great outdoors
not lockdown laws.

I’m starting to want to go to
places I haven’t been for a while
even though I might not have
enjoyed them when I did.
I’m reminiscing
as well as just ‘missing’.

I think I might be a bit crazy
….Stir crazy!

No Funeral.
No Wake.
Just get me down
to the Take’n’Bake.
When they’re done
sweep me into a bag or box
and scatter me wide.
Bits here and bits there
I don’t suppose I’ll really care
or notice where I am.
Places I’ve lived, loved and ventured.
Views that I might have seen
maybe from times when I’ve been
younger, fitter, when health was better.

No funeral means
No awkward reunions
between unmended siblings,
the kids, where a bit of a do
would spoil the day.
And, because it’s MY death,
and it would have been MY day
we’ll just leave it. It'll be better that way.
So none of those daring, glaring
or sympathetic looks.
The disappointment is well in the past.
Do what comes naturally
when I’m long gone. I hope it works
I want no part of it - nor ever did.
But obviously it irks!

But anyway that’s not the only reason
there should be no fuss.
Fuss to benefit not one of us.
I’ve been spiritual, but not religious.
I was parentally shoe-horned into church
but probably wouldn’t have bothered at all
if it’d been left up to me.
I'm happy to like one and all and,
if I got it back, that means I got it right

Being an atheist or agnostic
doesn’t mean you’re a bad person…
It just means you’ve thought it through
and come up with a different answer
than most of the Sunday shufflers,
those who might not question their motives
but just be in that groove. I say Live & Let Live.
What is it THEY say? Be nice to everyone you meet
on the way up… because you never know
who you might meet on the way down!
That about does it. Keep the info sparse.
Always leave them wanting more...
Hedge your bets, cover your ****!...
And the meek shall inherit the earth
If that's OK with the rest of you.
Me? - Ce’st la vie.

Picture the scene… a TV company boardroom.

“OK we have a problem”…

Oh no! - Corporate gloom!

"Thank you for turning up everyone… Listen in.

The opposition has come up with a winner.

Celebrity Pooch Walks with Alan Carr. I know…

But Gary’s got an idea - go on Gary…”
“So…

Here’s a synopsis…

It’s called ‘Celebrity Snoop Dogs’

We strap a camera to a dog’s back

and send it through a famous person’s cat-flap…”

“Sorry to stop you there Gary.

Although I recognise the merits -

and you may have it right…

But that one’s on Channel Four tonight!”

He shares my house…
the mouse.
It’s not the way I planned it.
It’s indiscriminate about where it *****
he eats the corners of all the packaging
all polite protocol he’ll ignore…
I’m afraid from now on it’s down to rodent WAR!

I’ve tried the humane ways
a friendly, humane trap that sits there days
and catches, zero, nothing, zilch, nout
so now we’re getting the big guns out.
I’ve got a set of Little Nippers
So powerful that when they go off
they fly and spin but sometimes
that’s often before they get their snout in or leg off!

He’s skilful, wilful, sneaky… But he does like Peanut butter
so I smear the hair-trigger of the trap with the stuff
and leave it where I’ve witnessed his faeces trail
So I know he’s been around when he’s nicked the bait
the trap still left active… So I’ll put that down as a fail!

Next time you little *******!

I’ve O’D’d on Glucosamine Sulphate, so much I’m mentally scarred.
It’s escalated now I’m 70… I’ve mainlined on my Senior Railcard…
I bow down to the Norse God Voltarol… He eases all my pains…
and there’s Deep Heat, Germaloids, even Anusol for the other stresses and strains.

The wondrous Winter Fuel Allowance! That’s what lights our lamp these dark days - ahh, those twilight hours!
But after the logs, it’s not Leccy or Gas we crave? No! We buy ***** with ours…
the Whisky, Gin, *****, Wine, a drop of Brandy too. It all helps us numb the cold
whilst memories of happier times gone by - brighten up this ****** growing old.

Supplements, sterols, statins, aspirin, beta blockers… All the heart meds - life’s a battle.
In the 60s it was *** and Drugs and Rock ’n’ Roll… Now there’s less *** and a lot more rattle!
****** fails to make it now - “no more”, after the last time - she said!
These days the only thing it does is stop me rolling out of bed!

The bus pass lets me roam the world… from John O’Groats to Land’s End.
But these days I travel locally Southwick, Lancing, Steyning; oh yeh and a cousin in far Gravesend.
Further afield; abroad perhaps? Well no…Back then it was Newhaven for the Continent.
But now I’m over 70, well, it’ll just be Worthing for the INCONTINENT!

And… did I say? Not that I was ever in the habit of measuring it you understand - or straightening out the kinks
I’m pretty sure that these days - and ’no’ it’s NOT just the cold… but, your once adequate **** - it shrinks!

I'm sorry...Your *******! It ain't so long!

When you’ve swept
the last frozen pea from your freezer…
and you’ve made the last batch of tallow candles
from the beef dripping of your last big meal…
and the already flickering light dims
and finally goes out…
You’ll just be scavenging from dawn
till dusk for sustenance...
And there's not much more about!

You’ll hear stories - word of mouth
‘cos the telly doesn’t work anymore,
of someone seeing the last truck
rolling North out of Dover…
All the diesel’s run out that used to power
the ferries and the trucks.
That last lorry was waylaid by looters…
But it was only carrying toilet rolls anyway!

Boris Johnson’s twitching figure still hangs
from the newly erected gibbet at Tyburn.
There will be a queue…
The next to step up and face their maker
Gove, Patel, Hancock or Raab…
“No, no… after you” being herded…
by refreshed & re-enrolled Hell’s Angels…
like Ravens and Vultures after a plague…

Amazon will be down to just one staffer.
He’s waiting for today’s single order -
from a techie in the Hebrides.
One who has built himself a generator from fuse wire
and washed up plastic waste.
He’ll be after a PS5 that runs on his private solar energy…
He can use it for 10 minutes each day after sundown
order before sunset - be ready - in haste.

I won’t go on… but you get the picture.
And, yet…In spite of life being a
well choreographed ****-show,
living & breathing...
(slowly…because you’ll use up all the Oxygen)
well, it still remains popular!

Happy New Year folks!

We’re having a trial separation. It’s just in its early days.
In fact it’s actually only been a couple of hours…and I’ve been analysing my ways.
I’m still in somewhat of a haze… it’s been a bit of a rush.
And, when I left, she was descaling the toilet bowl using my new toothbrush!

Knowing someone for 50 years… is downright weird… it’s true
like she sits in the bathroom - lid down - plucking her eyebrows on the loo…
"What’s wrong with that? Trunky!… Want a bun?...How ****** dare you?"
Hard to read… Does she, don’t she?…Will she, won’t she? Always the opposite view.

When we were love’s young dream, all those years ago,
we’d start saying the same things at the same time… finishing each other’s sentences… No?
And really there’s not much difference between being totally in love and complete complacency.
Your major arguments might be what to watch and who’s got the controller for the TV!

Recently It’s been surreal. But at the time - comforting - because we always did fit so well.
But you think you read each other’s thoughts - and that creates problems - sometimes it can be hell.
“Fancy some rumpy pumpy - maybe a ****”?
“Absolutely not lover boy! Jog on!”
“In that case do you mind just lying there for a bit whilst I have one?!”

She says our relationship has been weird and only sometimes wonderful.
She says that it’s because it’s me that’s weird and her that’s wonderful.
She might spend her time up the road at the Vietnamese Nail Bar.
Whereas I could sit all day and find genuine pleasure in this fine Real Ale Bar.

These days it’s more profound - the arguments more complex - we’re apt to scream and shout…
But calm down, take a breath, count to 10 - what if  The Hokey Cokey really IS what it’s all about?
And, don’t take life too seriously, is what I’d really like to say… ‘Cos in the end nobody gets out alive anyway.

She’s blowing things out of proportion…I know that.  And I’ve had some time to think.
I’m beginning to lighten up just having had a drink…and really it’s only been just a few hours.
OK, so I’m off …And, at this time of night, do you know where I can buy some flowers?

(a poem I wrote for Auntie Annie’s funeral).

Well you’ve all taken your time… while I’ve been waiting here.
I’m about to trip the light fantastic in all this sparkly gear.
And, because the aches and pains have gone, I’m about to strut my stuff.
I’m dressed in Rose Organza with feathers and pink fluff.

I’m surprised at how well I feel settling into this ‘other’ side.
I’m sure I’ll calm down after some frivolity, then take things in my stride.
For now though the spirit is upbeat testing my wings; making appearances near & far.
First though, a dance contest, tonight at Bridlington Spa!

Yes, I’ll be tripping the light fantastic… I’ve two partners in the wings.
Both husbands in smart tuxedos, brushing up their moves and things.
And I’m hoping we’ll cut a dash on that shimmering stairway to heaven…
Well, Wally was probably a six point five. And *** (my first love)… A SEVEN!

But seriously…my body had reached the bitter end and my memory was little better.
Who was who  - and what was what - was touch and go, and… let a
ninety two year old tell you with chair, zimmer frame or stick…
that the thought of stepping comfortably - toward that light… FANTASTIC!

… and even more seriously…

I’ll look out for all you kids… with a word or voice on the wind as it whistles through the trees.
Catch a glimpse in a crowd… “Was that?” NEVER?!. But It might be just my scent on the breeze.
But for us to be in touch again, however brief, we must be ready and enthusiastic.
I’ll prompt you to think of me as I trip toward that light… FANTASTIC!

We ain’t sending Christmas cards any more!
We’ve done the list and that’s it!
Oh no!…There’s another one just dropped through the door.
You approach it gingerly like an unexploded bomb
Cautiously wondering “who the eff is it from?”

“Oh no! It’s someone who’s not on the list… the *******!”
Or, an older relative who doesn’t ‘do’ computers....
“We don’t do computers!”...
And so it bounces off them this ‘losers’ two pronged attack.
like getting one in the post and not sending one back!
But we definitely ain’t sending cards any more!

Can’t they just send an e-card, maybe one of those Jacqui whats-her-name jobbies...
with floating fairies, sleigh bell sound effects and ****** labradors too.
Or bang off a picture of Santa on FaceBook, Twitter, SnapChat, Instagram…surely that will do.
Oh no they’ve got to go the whole nine yards.
Even if they buy ****** Poundland Cards
there’s still the cost of a ****** stamp! That’s extortionate too!
No… Sorry… actually not sorry...
We ain’t buying OR sending cards any more!

We’ll donate to charity instead - that’ll be us…
It’ll be cheaper and a lot less fuss.
Sponsor a neglected reindeer, maybe a redundant elf
Or yeh…better still - rescue a pup.
One that WAS just for Christmas then just got chucked.
For me this Christmas mail-out is over - the game's definitely up!
Or really… if all else fails…we’ll just buy next year’s supply
in bulk from the January sales!

We were at it like a couple of rabbits back then…
Eating salad I mean! Trying to lose weight!

Laying off the *****… keeping up the exercise.
press ups till you’re dizzy, can’t see straight
And look at them rippling thighs!
Never having a lie in or getting up deliciously late.
But running on the beach early doors, increasing the heart rate.

Heart and lungs that’s the thing - get a proper sweat on!
So good? Yeah! A crafty beer? Well maybe - but please, don’t let on.

The odd indiscretion is OK as long as it doesn’t show.
But the day of reckoning’s looming again and they’ll all have to know…
And in spite of all your calorie counting and life becoming a blur.
On the scales (these 'ere must be wrong) you’re just the same as you were!

Come Friday…”Christopher has had another good week everyone; he’s lost 6 ounces!!”
Daily exercise? Look at them rippling thighs!!

But I’ve done me best I’m on rice crackers with lemon zest
three times every day… I’m exercising… she’s criticising
And I’m worried I’ll waste away!
"No" she says… "your love handles haven’t disappeared.
Until they do it’s more of this and less of that.
And…you’re too shagged out anyway!"

Weight Loss... I don't give a toss!

It’s probably because these days,
now that my knees hurt more,
that when I’ve tackled our K2  stairs -
and I’m on the top floor,
you might just hear me ask
“what the **** did I come up here for?”
You see it’s not just the legs
but the brain that’s weak.
All the plusses that old age holds in store…
out of breath, can’t speak, need a leak…
but sod it, what did I actually come up here for?
It’ll come to me in a minute if I give it some thought
just for a minute or so...
I know, have at least two of everything,
one up one down, so that wherever you go
there’ll be what you want right there…
Or... just move to a bungalow!

Meanwhile... what did I come up here for?

The angst, the bile…
the true confessions, the lies
Hey this’ll make you smile…
“We have been working night & day
to keep the evil pox at bay”…

“No!”…You didn’t & you don’t,
you brief a learned stooge
who’s too polite to contradict
and he too sidesteps the truth - huge
apologies… but in fact I know
a source, a whistle blower
a real grafter of course - he’ll tell ya’

He sees beneath the radar,
sees what’s really going on… and
spills the beans at a crucial time
to expose the ******, the excess
the subterfuge, the slime, demi-crime
and BAM! he’s out - because, although
you’re the guilty one...

You’ve also got the clout,
the power to contradict and flout
the rules, the under-funded crawl-out
you scurry metaphorically to
dodge the fall-out. There will be more…
you whinge - but later… I promise.

Hide behind some positive PR
some smarmy spin to cover
your tracks, hide the mess you’re in.
Paper over the cracks…A new Royal Yacht,
a wedding… more cake anyone?…
Smile for the camera darling…
But time will catch you…
Tick tock… watch the clock.

Choose your time when dice should roll
to call the poll…while you’re
up they’ll be down, whilst the good
outweighs the bad… now, quick - SPIN!
Am I too near the truth?
Do you seriously think
we’re all taken in?

With the benefit of hindsight
it should have been me…not him.
with the benefit of hindsight
I’d have better teeth - Oh yeh, and be slim…
and, with the benefit of hindsight
that chap that drowned needlessly…
well, he’d definitely have learnt to swim.

With the benefit of hindsight
I’d have tried harder in maths
With the benefit of hindsight.
my classmates would’ve shown respect
not just scorned me with laughs.
With the benefit of hindsight - we’d be IN!
we wouldn’t have lost on penalties
we would have had a ****** rip-roaring win!

With the benefit of hindsight
of course you’d all do your best
approach tasks with vigour verve, and zest.
With the benefit of hindsight
we’d all show true-grit, determination… vim
With the benefit of hindsight
I would have been smarter not quite so dim
What chance a little bit of foresight?…
SLIM!

Sun scorched.
Wind blown.
Rain drenched.
Gale wrenched.
Breeze buffeted.
Blow dried.
Desert fried.
Drizzle cried.
Sometimes you
wonder weather!

Tornado torn.
Monsoon mashed.
Sleet slashed.
Snow blind.
Mist covered.
Fog bound.
Hail & Hearty...
Hurricane Higgins!
OK…Cyclone conceded.
Weather warnings
seldom heeded...
Wonder Weather!

Campers that Camp
Parkers who Park
Clampers that Clamp
Players who Play
Dampers that Damp
Breakers that Break
Stayers who Stay
Sneakers who sneak
Lovers that Love
Layers who Lay
Dreamers who Dream
Day Dreamers who Day Dream
Flouters who Flout
Shouters who shout
Pouters that pout
Wreckers who wreck
Screamers that Scream
Reamers that Ream
Redeemers who Dream and Redeem
Screamers who scream
Creamers who make cream
Streakers who streak
Readers who Read
Bleeders who Bleed
Tearers who tear
Shearers who shear
Sharers who share
Darers who dare
Carers that Care
Trenders who Trend… That’s trending
Menders who Mend... they're mending
they’re Fixers who fix!
They’re Doers who Do
Not Doubters that Don’t

Senders who send’a
a’ huh huh huh!
Thank you very much!

It’s a dystopian gloom and doom saga...
Also you may notice I’m still crusading for Littlehampton to feature on the world stage.

(and btw… I do know that US presidents only get
to have two terms of office… But, like most world leaders…
we never let the truth get in the way of a good story).

You know what’s coming doncha?
It’s not the end of the world (yet) but…
slowly and, as with all evolutionary stuff,
things are changing - and I for one… Well, I’ve had enough!
But you do know what’s coming doncha?

Like a glacier melts and the oceans rise.
and the maps change shape and,
unfortunately, also each country’s size.
The scary cry goes out…
‘we’ll have to move to higher ground’.
And it ain’t just Shoreham, Worthing or LA
(that’s Littlehampton) It’s EVERY worldwide coastal town!
You know what’s coming don’tcha

Yeh!…It’s official folks - Littlehampton IS a world class coastal town!

On another but very related matter - Social media…
That’s developing apace. cyber chatter! Not face 2 face!
It helps spell the future for the whole human race.
We can chat, chew the fat and generally carry on communication.
with pretty much everyone in every first world nation.
Of course - You can see what’s coming can’tcha?

Even Boris’s next election win and Trump’s 3rd term
could be voted for on-line. Press one for a **** - 2 for a clone…
And evil dictatorial leaders can be rubbed out by drone…
Now you just might think that’s fine,
but the terrorists will lash back - (back/slash, the swine)
and come stalking down your street…
with machetes and suicide vests - real ones this time -
looking for your hatch, your subterranean retreat…
Cos we won’t be living on it but below the street!
You can see what’s coming can’tcha?

Yeh, we’ll be, underground, overground (Stop it!)
yeh… under that dryer, higher ground
and still be in be touch and on the ball so,
with food & stuff grown by hydroponics (naughty).
padded out by UBER drone delivered Just Eats.
We ARE preparing for Armageddon.
Drone warfare will also cure the need for extermination
nation on nation skirmishes… Just Sweet!
So you do know what’s coming don’tcha?

Yep… cast your mind way forward a decade or two…
There’ll be Amazon drones dropping goods for you;
the things you want  - your culinary needs
Dry Goods… rice, noodles, seeds.
Spices (for the very rich) - and freeze dried veg
and, if you are really wealthy, and for you life’s not on the edge
the city’s centralised, homogenised cooking crews
The takeaway kings… the Just Eats & the Deliveroos.
They’ll still be at it!
And you can see what’s coming can’tcha?

You might think that’s a good thing yeah,
well maybe! But, if we all start living underground…
to get away from the blizzards and the scorching wind(s).
The Summer Hot hot… The winter Not not - yeh sub zero,
that’ll be the only way to stay in touch
no more roaming… (that’ll still be extra).
Just as well because the latest proliferating virus
makes messaging just as popular as face to face or phoning.
And you do know what’s coming don’tcha?

Things are going to be SOooo... different in our not so Brave New World…
Talk about alternative. We’ll ALL be ‘Underground’…
but not because we’re ‘Hip’ or Hippy… Or even happy…
but, because above ground just ain’t where you’ll want to live.
and then… The doubters will shape up…
A toss is suddenly something they’ll rapidly give!
NOW…you DO know it’s coming don’tcha?

You’re gonna need Armour for Armageddon!