Mr Cullen

There’s a man across the ward from me with a hearing aid that whines, ‘Old age coming on you see, I’m only seventy-nine. Me hernia’s shot, and so’s me sight, my specs they’re thick like bottle. But, I don’t smoke, though I used to And… of course I’m teetotal. Remember the war, ‘specially Dunkirk, Saw me mates blown to bits ( with a hearing aid that whines?!!) Me wife suffers from transient ischemic attacks So the car sits on the lawn, so forlorn. ‘Cors I’m in the San, might as well be in Japan, And me relations are mostly most torn. Oh, by the way Nurse, I saw on the form that someone has left off the “John”, “ Relax Mr Cullen, do not worry or pine” But still that infernal hearing aid gives off its’ mosquito whine. “ Oh, I’ve got a hernia, arthritis, all ills So many drugs, I can’t count the pills, all tastes and colours… So many colours, like the sunset at Somme But of course Red is pre-dominant after the blast, after a bomb And speaking of blood, I’m sure that you have missed the vein, Of the story, the War, the suffering, the pain. The crud and blood-mud, sickly grey colours and tastes When it mixed with the dirt From the trenches.’ “ Oh, so that’s an ECG machine, Nurse Heard it twists and it wrenches, Just joking of course, ( from the mouth of a horse.) The disturbance on that graph could be my hearing device “ “ Didn’t know you wore one,” says the nurse, as she lies And when the machine is once again confined to it’s home He queries, “ What’s it say, will I die or free will I roam?” “ I have to hold on till Sunday, it’s me and me wife’s fiftieth, you know! I’ve come this far, neither Kaiser nor Fuhrer could succeed, I’ll give it a show!” Then he sits there, hunched up, saline shining on his chest And his mind begins to wander, as his body starts to rest. “ My daughter’s about fifty, still lives with me, And me wife of course, they’ll be round for tea. There’s me three grandchildren, though Sandra’s the best She’s busy at Tech, always passes all her tests. She’s nineteen and sturdy, a joy to behold She is obedient, red-haired, always does what she’s told.” “ Now my generation, they’re mostly all dead,” ( It’s your hearing aid mate! As it pieces my head!) Before we were men, we were destroyed in our youth; For King and for Country, for Freedom and Truth. Oh ! here comes my wife. Look there’s Sandra too! Now not a single word young man, about my tales so blue!” Then he hugs his wife and Sandra, On his pyjamas I see a smear, Of coffee. And in the joy of reunion, down his wrinkled cheek; Only I …see the tear. ( I was in hospital in 1986 for three weeks, and the man across the ward from my bed, was a Mr John Cullen...he died the day I left the hospital. )