He is 100 and five spends his time in bed his family
come up to his room and clean him up, he is windy
and it smells like a Chinese egg buried underground
for fifty years. And to think Chines eggs are supposed
to be a delicatessen eaten only by the rich.
He can’t read anymore but like to look at pornographic
pictures which make him cackle as it triggers off
a memory of a distant past.
He was never a paragon of virtue smoked and drank
a brutal criminal who spent much time in prison.
All this is forgotten now his family, although they think
he is disgusting, want him to be in the Guinness book
of records as the longest living man.
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Comments about this poem (Record breaker by oskar hansen )
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