© The Puling

©   The Puling:

To whimper; to whine, as a complaining child.

 I pulled one thin leg up and out of the covers, wondering what I would discover today.

Opened the shutters, with a touch of the shudders and found: ‘Uh pelting down rain as always!’

Thankfully it was Sunday, no commitments to keep – maybe more sleep? I then plug in my blanket.

But in came the wife, said ‘Get up Jesse – god you look messy; you have to play today for the banquet.’

Indeed I had forgotten it was Senior’s week; the band was due to squeak during morning brunch.

So begrudgingly I showered and shaved, primmed and powdered. Then I gulp down some toast and munch...

My way to the garage, load the car with drum kit, the sound system, my ego and other bits of gear.

So with a crocodile tear, off I went to spend a dreary hour or two and plunge hit after hit into their ears.

We played a few tunes (one old fat bloke played the spoons), and for a moment I saw myself pull gut in: help!

As if things couldn’t get any meaner, I got an award for being a senior! I s’pose I’ll have to stick it on the shelf.

‘Aw, lighten up!’ said the cheese ‘n’ kisses, ‘It’s not the end my cherub, listen, people love to hear you chirrup.’

‘And be glad that the old tunes were sung,’ and so with all the words hung I pelt upon the skins and usurp...

Their indulgence, I presume as they shuffle ‘round the room; I wonder what became of the young crooner I was.

Now with tinnitus, infinitus, day and night my hearing’s at crisis: I’m not Beethoven, rock ‘n’ roll’s the cause!

Well I never made a million and never had the thrill of being on the telly belting it out with JO’K.

But I played the Capitol Theatre in a witch’s outfit: ‘Hubble bubble and Hoadley’s crumble bars all the way!

But at the Capitol in Washington they have squandered all their capital; Obama has a drama on his hands.

Just lighten up Barack, there’s no turning back, your gun: the lip can’t flip the obsequious rifleman’s demands.

 The gulp in my throat caused me to splutter on my coffee when I read softly about America’s huge debt.

It’s next to impossible to grasp or understand the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan that still continue as yet.

In the decades still to come six trillion dollars will be the outcome; that’s a six followed by twelve noughts.

Just picture an international telephone number; longer than a Lebanese cucumber, so – care to join the dots?

 And now the new Pope divine can now gulp thine wine amidst rejoicing in Argentina that continues still.

But I hear that old Frankie still frowns on hanky-panky and still won’t compromise upon the pill.

But it’s rather commensurate of this Pope Jesuit to settle his newspaper account from the Vatican palace.

And he still stays at the Vatican hotel thus far; maybe George will get him a room gratis at Domus Australis.

So lighten up you silly fools, there really are no rules; thine plug should be removed from your orifice.

Leave the angst to Tony and Julia and don’t let their ‘spinsters’ fool ya, lighten up or letup nigh you come adrift!