I was whistling an Abba tune
only to realise I was a bit light
Just a half an octave or so
All the revenant choirs screeching nonetheless
None able to run after notes anymore
the sycophants blocking the light / the path
My own transposing or imaginings
Beautiful isolated Abba esque memories
Before the poor key hummers interruptions
assholes, not even compus mentus now
musical geriatrics
forgetting their own tunes.
What a magnificent chance to insult them all
30 years later
and them oblivious, missing the racquet never mind the ball
Sheer self-indulgent heaven
