(first published in Writers’ Forum, Issue 167, Sept. 2015)
He yearns to wander the wide blue yonder,
To vanish – pouf – like Bilbo Baggins,
To shed his beery mini-paunch
And his many other mini saggings.
He’s a sixty-something, semi-senile seeker,
His new-grown beard’s already itching,
He’s up, up and away to Costa Rica…
Just as soon as he’s cleaned the kitchen.