I have this earworm

I have this earworm

Thing going on

It's not like it’s a bad song

But for goodness' sake

The Blues for Terry Southern

I barely know him

If it’s the guy I remember

The Magic Christian

And Easy Rider fella.

I expect he had other stuff

To remember him by

But I forget.

Maybe he was a hard-done soul.

The lyrics seem to suggest

He was too trusting.

I wonder if he wore

Warm socks

Sitting on a sofa

With the oil heater

Barely registering

Against the frost on the window

Trying to stay awake

In case he succumbed in his sleep.

Have you seen guys

Wriggle their fingers

To help with stiffness

And circulation.

Frostbite is a cruel way

To lose a toe

Too many old folks

Freeze to death

For want of a winter fuel allowance

Or the where-with-all

To wear an extra layer.

Old drunks wake up

In strange places

Half starved

Blue with cold.

Red-nose day

Was a self-portrait

But they still got to the bar

In time for first dibs

On happy hour.

At least they did

Until the antifreeze

In their veins

Stopped working.

Mine stopped working

And I am loath to

Buy a refill

Perhaps I’ll wear a scarf

In future.

I could use it to strangle

The waterboy who wrote

This song.

But that wouldn’t be me.