YOU CAN’T TAKE IT WITH YOU

The rich dread dying
Because they’ve got so much to lose;
Their mansions and their palaces,
Their glossy Gucci shoes.
Their houses and their horses,
Their butlers and their wives;
The solid-silver coffee spoons
They’ve used to measure out their lives.
Their paintings and fine furnishings
Imported from afar,
Their Pollocks and Picassos
And expensive objets d’art.
Their power and their influence,
Their restaurants and their clubs,
Their so-obliging prostitutes
And charming country pubs.
Their hunting, shooting, fishing,
The retriever at their feet
And their neighbour’s nubile daughter
Whom they’ve just arranged to meet.
Their Rollers and their Daimlers,
Their Bentleys and their Jags
And their fatuous silly features
In the sycophantic mags.
(And visits up to London
When ‘funds are rather low’
For some brisk insider dealing
With ‘a friend who’s in the know.’)
They’ve got to leave the lot behind
(No hand-luggage allowed)
When they trade their frayed Armani suits
For a new Versace shroud.



The right of Simon R Gladdish to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988