Remembrance of Things Past

The other day Time spun about,
And when it settled down again
I found myself a Stone Age lout,
Hunting the aurochs in the rain.

My shallow brow was deeply lined;
There was an ulcer on my shin.
I had some mazy thoughts in mind,
But lacked the words to clothe them in.

I wore my only reindeer pants,
And these were holed beyond repair.
My wife had been devoured by ants,
My daughter eaten by a bear.

I had a most appalling squint,
And cataracts in both my eyes,
And one misshapen piece of flint
To kill a creature twice my size.

Time spun about, and here I stood.
I lunched off something from a can,
And did not shudder, as I should,
To be a twentieth-century man.