2022 Cometh

No one asked it, too – but it came all the same!

Friday 31 December 2021

Inchcock’s computer was doing odd things again,
Inchie knows it is doomed; he feels the pain,
Still, he’s got his other worries, Morphine and Lidocaine,
Everything nowadays confuses him; facts are so hard to retain!
His efforts to improve his memory have all been in vain,
But Inchies determination to survive remains unslain,
Then he stubbed his toe, lost his key, then a tumble again!

He set about making an imitation dinner…
Perseverant, dedicated to making this one tastier!
After a few meal failures lately, he’s getting jitterier…
Confidence gone, he tried, but this meal was crappier…
His language, as he turned into a self-hater…
He should have stuck with sausage and mashed potato!
Boy did he swear, spit, as his self-loathing went nuclear!
A good job that no one else was in the area!
Then pains from Duodenal Donald did appear…
The old codger is not having much luck, I fear!.

Depressed with himself now, he got his camera,
His mind wandered… thinking of his meal… beefburger?
“I fell asleep and missed the fireworks, silly bugger!”
As he saw the sky, he thought of being an astrologer,
Realising his eyesight, with so many a disorder…
Cataract Katey, Glaucoma Gloria, and Saccades Sandra,
He’ll see nowt, and the telescope he couldn’t manoeuvre…
His pre-2022 brain and thoughts were even unclearer…

Inchcock got into his overwhelmingly sickeningly…
Beige, second-hand, £300, c1968, uncomfortable, recliner,
Nodded off, woke up in the kitchen – how? Somnambulistically,
Dropped off again, woke at 00:10hrs, not very jocularly…
He’s missed photoing the fireworks – he blames his dementia!
But he still got his camera, and onto the balcony, he did venture…

2022 Had Arrived!

He whipped back the cover where he was reclined,
And mottled legs, and glowing ulcer he did find!
But, no time for medicating now; his leg he disentwined…
Got his fully charged camera, all realigned…
Took two photographs, not too badly defined!

Kettle on, and off he went to the Porcelain Throne,
After half an hour, I had to check on him (Alto-Ego) all alone…
I heard no screams, not even a moan!
I floated into the Porcelain Throne…
He sat there glum-faced, scratching his thigh bone…,

Into his crosswording… He said, “Nowts moved, Alto”,
“Rock solid, burrit won’t move, though!
“Have yer given the Diapharm capsules a go?”
“One yesterday, one today! No, it was two today!”
As I laughed and left, I thought I heard him pray!

Inchcock Leaves The Wet Room!

Forty minutes after going into the Porcelain Throne,
He came out wearily, in pain, and took a Ziprasidone,
He seemed fed-up, looking drawn and on his own…
His usual contentment seems to have been blown…
He started rubbing on his cheekbone…
Oh, dearie, he’s got toothache; but he doesn’t moan,
Just stands there, fascinated, looking out at a drone!

Health Checks Time

Well, the BP SYS is a little high,
As is the Pulse, he wonders why?

Temperature is at 34.2°centigrade, not too high,
He’s unconcerned, and I think I know why…
He’s been in the fridge, reading instructions on his beef pie!
Then checked the cooking times on his chips… Oh, my!
Then went on CorelDraw, to make a graph, that’s why!

I heard him talking from the other room; he was going at it,
He does a lot of chinwagging to himself…
But I’m not worried about his mental health a bit,
Although his finances are losing wealth…
He was happily talking to his pet, Rabbit Rupert…
All the others as well, he did look a little hurt…
When I called his brown bear, Burt…
He grabbed me by the shirt…
Even though he’s only a little squirt…
And I always thought he was an introvert?

I soon discovered why he was being so short with me,
His favourite nurse did not arrive…
I laughed; he threatened to kick me in the knee!
But Arthur Itis and Dizzy Dennis made him fall over, you see,
I’ve never seen him so active…
Till he tumbled over, now he’s definitely inactive…
But he did get back up; it took him a long time to rise…
I laughed at him again. He was very reactive…
To the point of being so argumentative…
I told him, I’m not real, you do realise?
That’s why kicking me was very unwise!.

Inchie sulked a while, took some more painkillers, and skulked off to prepare a meal. I’m worried about him…