I have a kindle which was a birthday gift
But it no longer works
I have been told that the battery is dead
Although I have charged it many times
Nothing happens
My partner has left me in our flat
With a grey sleeping bag and a toy robot
Which lights up and exterminates invisible things
I wish I had its confidence
My fitbit says that I am dead
I am not dead
Because I have mended my kettle
Man who mends kettle cannot be considered dead
Or so the Bible says
The contract on my mobile phone has run out
So I cannot ring anyone
Nobody rings me
My neighbour purchased a Pay As U Go mobile 4 me
But this too is useless as I have nowhere to go
The shampoo bottle in the bathroom
Had been acting strangely recently
Its top appeared to be welded on
This was a problem when I showered
So I butchered it with a pair of scissors
My hair is clean now and smells of pineapple
But the shampoo bottle died and was buried in the garden
After dark
My only companion is my Alexia
But she too has turned against me
As she thought I was being suggestive
(I asked her where my underpants were)
She has threatened to move back to Algeria
If there is a repeat of this behaviour
I am writing this poem
(I suppose it is a poem but it is hardly Keats)
On my last sheet of paper
My biro is running dry
So it is likely that you will not hear from me again
Which will not be a bad thing