Political commentators,
Blah blah blah.
Broadcasters,
Blah blah blah.
Authors,
Blah blah blah.
Politicians,
Blah blah blah.
The Left,
Blah blah blah.
The Right,
Blah blah blah.
The centre,
Blah blah blah.
All babbling away,
Babbling away,
Night and day,
With absolutely nothing to say.

Making too much noise?
Are you sure?
Making too much mess?
Are you sure?
Mother!
What are you saying?
Mother!
Shut your mouth!
Mother I was only playing!
Playing with myself!

I got spots on my ***
I got teeth missing
I got IBS
I got the loudest of snores
I got stretch marks
I got brain cells missing
I got Colitis
I am king of the bores
I got lots of grey hairs
I fall down the stairs
I get lots of stares
I'm all yours.

What balm exists
to soothe time's passing,
to make melodic the incessant tick,
the incessant tock
of the one unstoppable clock.
What balm exists
to ameliorate the loss of youth,
to make easier the one-way journey into older age,
to annoint the wretchedness of old age.
What balm exists
to put bloom and blush back into the rotting fruit,
to add life to the decay.
What balm exists
to make quiet the scream,
to deaden the dread of death,
to breathe acceptance into that one last breath.
What balm exists?