I usually read all the letters,
And check on the leaders’ acuity.
I admire the bright crossword setters…
As my mind is a nest for vacuity.
As always I check out the fashion
And advice on my sex life and organs
I am too old for unconrollable passion
Or to have sex before work in the mornings.
I suppose we could get laid after dinner…
but the big death is more and more likely.
I remind God we humans are all sinners
In the hope he will let me off lightly.
Well,do you think loving’s a sin now?
Are wars and killings more virtuous?
Or how about beating one’s brow?
Being saintly is even more tortuous.