Telesales

by | Nov 28, 2013 | Poetry | 0 comments

I woke up this morning
As the telephone was ringing.
I picked it up beside my bed
And someone with an accent said,
“We hear you had an accident
In the last two years.”
I said, “That was no accident
Because it was deliberate.
I’d nearly killed the bugger.”
He told me that his name was Bill,
Then asked me if I’d made a will
Or was insured from being ill.
He then mentioned P.P.I.
And chair lifts for before I die.
I asked where he was ringing from,
He said Calcutta was his home.
He offered me a mobile phone
And an alarm with deafening tone,
A kitchen or conservatory,
But he just couldn’t interest me.
I told him that I wouldn’t buy
But thanked him for his steadfast try
And asked him not to ring again.
He didn’t even say goodbye!

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