My wife had up and left me
In search of happiness
And though a week had now gone by
I was still in quite a mess.
The fridge and larder were empty
Apart from odds and ends:
Nothing there to help me keep
My stomach and I good friends.
Then, low and behold, I saw it:
Corned beef in a square-looking tin
With a key stuck on the outside
Providing an easy way in.
I found the remains of the Branston
And some crystalised strawberry jam.
They made the plate look colourful,
Though I thought they'd go better with spam.
I held the tin quite firmly,
Like I would the hand of a friend,
Then broke off the key and threaded
The thin metal strip through the end.
A twist of the wrist and I'd started
To separate the strip from the tin
While the smell of the meat was heaven:
Which shows what a state I was in.
Then the key was no longer turning:
I twisted again and then, Damn!
The thin metal strip just broke apart
And I dropped the key in the jam.
But did I let this faze me?
Oh no! not on your life:
I attacked the tin with my spoon and fork
(That was after I'd broken the knife)
But an inch and a half was not enough
Of a gap to let me in
So I did the only thing I could:
I threw it all into the bin.
Of course, I blamed it on my wife
Well, what else could I do?
'Cos when she took her leave that day
She took the tin-opener too.
the above work is copyright David Axton © All Rights Reserved