When I am a Toad

By Thorin Tatge

To “When I’m 64,” by Lennon and McCartney.

When I confront the Walrus of Doom,

In his court of shame,

I’ve no doubt my life will take a turn for the worse;

Bing—and I’ll be under a curse.

Assuming I’m not plague-ridden or shot,

And if I don’t explode,

Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I am a toad?

Oooooooooooooooooooooh

Ignorance is bliss.

For all that we know, a toad,

Is heavenly to kiss!

I could be handy, cleaning your yard

From unwanted things.

Feed me lots of honey bees and various bugs,

Weevils, cutworms, beetles and slugs!

Still, we don’t know this curse will be so

Predictable as that.

Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m a wombat?

We could rent a cottage with a little swamp, though it seems our hopes

Of parenthood are stopped!

No more Vera, Chuck and Dave—

Or—could we adopt?

Maybe you’ll miss my beautiful skin

And have no time for warts!

Maybe you’ll confide to me that your biggest fan,

Just has to be more of a man.

Maybe you’ll leave me, stuck in the zoo

Crying out my soul!

Or will you still need me, when you still feed me, when I am a vole?

Oh, will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I am a chunky spider monkey?

Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I am a toad?