by Steven Urquhart Bell
“[Chancellor] Jeremy Hunt weighs up tax breaks for retired people who return to work…”
I portered in a hospital, the biggest in Dundee;
I often went for hours without a seat.
And when it got less busy and I finally could pee,
The recoil nearly knocked me off my feet.
So what would tempt me back is if they let me glut my taste
For dresses with the crinoline inside ’em;
Then fit me with a catheter and hang around my waist
Collection bags—the dress will serve to hide ’em.
Now when it comes to portering, I’m not a man for joshing:
Not only will the urine bags not show,
The petticoats will rustle, which will hide the noise of sloshing,
And sweep the floor of rubbish as I go.