Oh dear God, another case!
I raise my palm to my face.
Why, oh why, can’t we contain
This oh so sneaky UK strain?
‘Will 5 days become a month, a year?’
I whisper to myself in fear.
‘Quit your moaning!’ Meows the cat.
‘Come hither slave! Give me a pat.’
And as I stroke her belly fluff.
I realise I no longer give a stuff.