Middle-Aged in Mexico

Middle-Aged in Mexico

I’m sat on a beach in Mexico

Feeling not half bad

For a  middle-aged woman of fifty four.

Maybe you think ‘that’s sad.’

The built in support in my swimsuit

Gives me a figure to which I aspire,

As long as I’m lying flat on a bed

And I’m sucking in my spare tyre.

I’m flanked by ladies of all shapes and sizes

But my eyes only focus on those

Whose fat doesn’t wobble, those skinny brown girls

Who cavort and pretend not to pose.

My husband says ‘Why not compare your-self

With women who are more your own age?

You’ve had your day; now they’re having theirs.’

I hold back the tears of outrage.

I wave at a passing beach waiter

‘A vodka and diet Sprite’

I can tell by the look on my husband’s face

That he knows, there’ll be no sex tonight!