Bucket list, undone ambitions hard to resist,
Wish the name I could desist,
Forget the fear of Death that persists;
What a cunt of term,
As bad as an old perm
Could we please rename it
Somehow reframe it
Maybe call it the fucket list
Better still, if you will,
Aspirational augmentation
Or with a little imagination,
A culmination catalogue
You know, get another dog,
After all these years,
Or something more serious,
No, I’m not delirious,
Such as learning to like men called queers,
Not fair they’re still the subject of misunderstood leers,
It’s a matter of camp quality,
Not camp quantity;
Or women called lesbians,
Just not right, no plight, not a waste of sin,
Makes you all seem like a bunch of has bins,
Staggering around with a politically incorrect grin;
But maybe it should just be called a duck-it list…
You’ll never do them all,
There will always be way too many,
Always something stuck away in your mind’s cranny,
Or your frontal lobal fanny.