Uncle Peter

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Uncle Peter wasn’t Elvis, but he thought he was.

Admittedly, at family parties even after a skin full

he could hold a tune, but Elvis didn’t need to be

 helped into a taxi after a gig, and he didn’t have to retrieve 

his false teeth from the garden the following day.

Uncle Peter wasn’t Fred Astaire, but he thought he was.

Admittedly, at his daughter’s wedding, even with indigestion 

after a three course meal and several brandies,

he could throw a few shapes.

But Fred Astaire didn’t nearly get arrested

because he was running through the town centre

with a traffic cone on his head.

Uncle Peter wasn’t Casanova, but he thought he was.

Admittedly, he was married three times

and always seemed to find plenty of women

who liked the aroma of Brylcreem and Castella cigars. 

But Casanova didn’t put so much Hi Karate on

that you could smell him in the next street.

Uncle Peter wasn’t a young man, but he thought he was.

Admittedly, he had read the NME since the 60’s

but you can’t be cool forever.

He started to look like he had lost it

When he thought Kanye West was a holiday destination.

Uncle Peter wasn’t my favourite uncle, but he thought he was.