Health Check Poem by Phil Soar

I was sixty when it started, The tests on my health
It all seemed half-hearted, Could have done it myself
I had never been poked, Or fingered like this
Analysing my anus, and checking my piss

Collecting my poo, posting it off
Holding my bollocks, expecting a cough
Checking my nob for diseases unknown
Measuring moles, to see if they've grown

Hairs growing fast, in unusual places
Boils turning up, where there used to be spaces
Varicose veins like an undergound map
Someone insisting they think I look crap

If I sleep like a fish, I'm considered a freak
No matter the fact I've not wanked for a week
And still they keep coming, all the clinic requests
Just how many nurses, can see me in my vest?

Perhaps when I'm gone, they'll stop checking me out
Stop fingering my arse, what is that all about?
I feel quite well, thank you, I'm full of delight
Though my wife says I'm nuts, and perhaps full of shite