Sunday, 4 October 2020

the un-bucket list, reprised from Project 366

 Kit Kelen #1320 - the un-bucket list


1320
the un-bucket list

the tightwire
high dive

firewalk

I’m not pinning on the lion’s tail
won’t be me goes for the gallop

balloon trip
base jump

no shark dive
I’m not going in the volcano

I won’t drive a locomotive
I won’t fly a plane

heat of the front line battle
and there are certain books

lion’s den
viper’s pit

crawl under the barbed wire to freedom

don’t want to be in parliament either

casual teaching
no need to learn to chainsaw
dive in a cave
go under the ice

all power to spies
risking their lives
defending what must be the truth

I’ll take truth every time
no dare!

I won’t be taking
the diving bell
Everest ascent
there’s barely a beast
I’d take by the horns

I will not ride the tiger

Lands End to Thurso
by whatever means?
it won’t be me that you’ll see

and I won’t fire the gun
play whist
I won’t inspire belief

consort with major criminals
fence goods, sing like canary

it’s not for me
to declare the war
dare the devil
do or die

won’t throttle the bike at high speed
much less dance on the whirlwind
let me skip steep ski slopes

may lightning never strike me

despite some messianic moments
I won’t be resurrected
issue fatwas
wear the black cloth cap

won’t weave carpet
mend motor
play rugby union
I can’t bear to watch

if I can avoid
helicopter, hospital
injections, suppositories
castor oil, cod liver
brains, black pudding
anything too big to swallow
a simple somersault
then I’ll a happy man

happy to list
any hazardous occupation
more generally, there’s work
I’ve found almost all paid employment sucks

shaving’s something I won’t do

also moonshot
Marswalk
the whole of the bottle at the one sitting
and magic?
no sawing assistants in half

I won’t even start an old religion
I’ll try not to cast the first stone
no hunger strikes
no beauty pageants
trophies on the wall
I’m not going after big game

these are things not on my post-its
no magnet holds them to my fridge

I guess I must lack aspiration
to be writing out these lines
I shall not descend into the maelstrom
I must not dive for pearls

I don’t care how much grease you’ve got
I’m reluctant to go down the pole
I will not swim the Channel

I won’t climb a tree  
though I see the cat’s up there
and often I’ve been put to task

certain piles I dare not excavate
clichés lived and not to challenge
I’ll take my critique just so far
I couldn’t wean myself off rhyme

I’ll never catch a kangaroo
and gladly, no one wants me to

perhaps I’ll never show them
but I can live with that

I’ll never see every inch of Australia
I may yet throw a pot on a wheel
compose and even dance a jig
find some cheap bauble words to steal
certainly I’d give a fig
for leafy genitalia

and yet

these things don’t make my to-do

they may raise a knowing smile

I never was a fan of reason
mildness
delicate decorum  
I cannot promise not to pun

there’s much attending I won’t list
for instance, taken as read
brush my teeth and make my bed
I won’t say any prayers
though I am ever wishful still
and hope to go on listing

give me the beachwalk
the garden
my yoga
the chocolate
(hot/cold taps)
sunshine to catch
an evening snifter
these tales by the fire
fine food and friends

never say never they say
but still
it’s cosy here
tucked up in bed

still passion’s slave
when roused
full of beans
ideas just get better

and death?
I was never brave enough
so let’s give it a miss
… if you’ll just cosy up beside
I’ll settle for a kiss

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