Where is my new fridge? Still, they’ve got till 6
To bring it up the stairs (no lift, my friend)
Frozen food once again; I lick my lips
At the shimmering prospect. Tins don’t tend
To fill me up for long. Hungry again…
Up early, down to Optical Express
An op on both eyes agreed with Elaine
Next Friday’s the date for my laser quest
Been re-reading all of Shakespeare’s sonnets
His objects of desire don’t seem to mix
Well with considerate natures; no, they fend
For themselves, treating Will so bad; the test
Of love seeming to be looks and cruel tricks
These will ensure admirers never end
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