KISSES FROM KEATING AND EILEEN D
The cab driver took us and my Zimmer frame
Round Arthur's Seat for extra Christmas fare,
As my leg had been referred to Orthopedics
By the Western for further delicate NHS care,
But Mr Keating thought it was all my fault.
"I don't know a thing about lymphodema!" he fumed. "And we only treat
fractures here. Away to a clinic for the elderly, and begone!".
So James and I took a shorter ride back to Vittoria
And devoured two delicious twenty five quid steaks
And in marched my highly worthy neighbour Eileen D, four green flags,
Future OBE,, with her grass roots husband
And utterly delightful granddaughter in tow.
"Thank you for the lovely chocolates, Tom," she declared,
Giving me an ageless kiss,
"I asked Beverley to mail all my presents this year," I replied,
"I didn't want you to go amiss,"
But to cap it all, RBS played one of their devious tricks,
and my debit card was temporarily blocked.
So back to my flat with an empty wallet
and in a dreadful crap-ridden bathroom rush
I hobbled and fled,
All shame on you, Fortuna! The idiocyncrasies of life turn me on my head.
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