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