Roger McGough wrote the above-titled poem circa 1937…Oh, hell, lookitup yourself. The brilliance, bitterness and humor of this piece of truth-turned-flesh is worth the googliing thereof. Five stanzas; seven or fewer lines each stanza and what well woven words! Since I did not have time to research its copyrightedness or its public domainity, I herein only will cast forth my heartily recommends. Enjoy. Chortle. Gasp. Forget not the opening and closing stanzas whilst guffawry takes center stave in the middle-three!
I got feedback on Face Book from a schoolmate at Seminole High some fifty years ago – she was a year ahead of me. Diane looked up “Let Me Die…” and commented to me. (I had known she lost her life’s live well into their son’s young adulthood, but it still was a Youngman’s Death) That sparked a thought: and I suggested the same to her and do so again here: how about some seasoned lady cranking out a companion poem: “Let Me Live A Youngwoman’s Life” or something different altogether. Perhaps its my fondness for juxtapositioning.
I looked up Roger McGough, who according to Wikipedia still lives at 78. He did not write “Let Me Die…” in 1937 – I misread that bit. That’s his birthyear.