Take up smoking other people’s cigarettes and wear
a beret you found on the Ballybane bus.
Write a Last Will and Testament in which you bequeath
your lungs to your least favourite busker.
Get given a banjo on someone else’s
fifty first birthday and fully intend
to learn how to play it.
Launch an online petition angrily calling
for more of the same.
Organise a fundraising concert in aid
of yourself, headlined by a guy who once met Peter, Paul
& Mary. Carry a concealed photo of a young Lord Haw Haw
in the breast pocket of the shabby three piece
you wear at weekends and consider
a career in broadcasting. If male, nickname
that thing in your underpants
the late Bishop Browne; if female,
erect a sign officially
re-naming your equal and opposite bits
John F. Kennedy Square.
Become an elderly crank in pyjama pants
who once owned a craft shop.
Try our range of face creams
Druid’s Semen Number One, Two & Three.
Wake up shouting about homeopathy,
El Salvador, Palestine.
Skulk up back streets face down-
beat as a bad turn out
at a charity event for athlete’s
foot. Visit the Abbey and buy a Mass card.
Send it to yourself by registered post,
so tomorrow at least
the world will have some sympathy.
KEVIN HIGGINS is The Bogmans Cannon satirist-in-residence
This poem first appeared in the anthology More Raw Material – work inspired by Alan Sillitoe (edited by Neil Fulwood & David Sillitoe)