To The Pension Born Poem by Bernard Kennedy

Form complete and esse stated I posted, this day, my application for contributory old age pension.
Old age- already at sixty six? Dear God, on earth as in heaven- has it come to this the kyber pass of form?
So soon a magna carta of state acknowledgement-
Yes to make a false or misleading statement
can lead to prosecution or imprisonment.

The yellow brick road is leading now to the land of zimmer frame and hearing aid, of bus pass and tolerance, of knee caps cracking and being replaced. Of breathless speed and smiling approval ' you are looking very well today'.

Did I really swim the Aegean sea like Byron did, and tan my hide in Heraklion, and sip a gin in Cefalu, and lose my breath in Istanbul. And fall in love or was it just transference? 'What's that' my hearing aid needs battery new,
my glasses I cannot find- o there they are, thank God again.

Sailing for Byzantium now my boarding pass is somewhere here.
The passing beauty of the world and there it is.

I leave the post office- form complete and registered post, now the mountain view I see beyond, the sugar loaf. Sinai? Ararat? Mount Carmel? perhaps a bit of each. I lift up my eyes wearing glasses.