I suffer aeronautic ears
That block and bubble when I fly
Affecting sounds of simple words
From my telly tuned to Sky
Not content with reading lips
Half-heard crucial narratives
Pleading with my wife to tell
The missing detail on what gives
Sadly though quite recently
She says her ears no longer prone
To pick up on the plot I’ve lost
Nor doesn’t hear me when I moan
“What was that? What did they say?”
She cocks a deaf-un to my pleas
As I rewind or turn the volume up
To louder muffled mysteries
Then suddenly it dawns on me
As though an omen caught my eye
I phone for technical support
Get through to Damien at Sky
Explaining that it’s murder here
Our sound has got the evil eye
We cannot quite believe our ears
You little devil tell us why
I could feel him staring down the phone
As I made clear my earie state
When Damien warbled “Luvvly Jubbly
I can fix that for you mate”
He offered me a one-off deal
To lift the wicked hex that blocks
From here on I will hear it all
Because I bought the sky sound box
No more malignant evenings
No Raven spitting feathers curse
The hateful muffles exorcized
That put my lugholes in reverse
That Damien is a smoothie
He'll earn a fortune flogging wares
Why not move to Rodney's Peckham pad
Sky-bound next years millionaires
Many thanks to Damien at Sky for lifting the dark cloud of malevolent sound creeping out of our TV. If I had a good cartoon I would use it in this post.
Copyright © C K Letts Year Posted 2018
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