Mrs K hit the kerb ; then her husbands car
His new Mercedes in their drive
She was piqued , cos she 'd heard ;
In the beauty salon
The news .
That the cat -walk queen ,
Whom his brother married
Had been
Selected Secretary at the
Country Club AGM
Screw Her !
She raged
She fumed
She flung a plate
And then a punch
And threw
Him out
Alone on the street.
With his bashed Mercedes Benz
Back to his dotcom boardroom.
Or so she thought ;
But he went to a hookers bedroom
That afternoon for relief.
A dotcom millionaire’s life is really fraught
Which amply justified the simple comfort he sought.
Fooled her !
She called the Latvian home help
Who was going out with three poodles
With three pink collars
On three pink leads
And flung her cell phone
At the girl ; skimmed her pretty skull,
Knocked the pretty figure to the floor
Just like shed seen Naomi do .
Floored her !
She went to the cabinet
Drew a line.
Rolled a note
Snuffed the powder deep
Poured a vodka
Lit a fag
Lay back
As her body
Tingled.
Stoned herself
Crashed out
Fuck ’ em !
They found her later on the couch
A puff of white on her face
Stiff , and slim and a rictus grin
Frozen in the instant she died .
Massive heart attack
The coroner said ;
And she didn’t feel a thing
And maybe some kind
Of medication
Had brought it on.
Couldn’t say for sure.
Her death was in accordance ;
With the medical evidence proffered.
Such an awful tragedy.
But they say that God will take ,
To Heaven those he loves ,the most
Loser !
A guard of honour
From the Country Club
Lined her hearse
As they carried her coffin down
To a horse drawn carriage
Led by a solemn stately
Man in all in black
And crisp white gloves .
Such a popular lively girl
Such a dear ; such a charmer
Always fun , and full of cheer
But they buried Mrs K
Without a tear.
Tear , my ass!
And on her gravestone
Is her picture; with the legend
Mrs K ; - The former Catwalk County Queen
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