Miserable Old Goat

He climbed the stairs to the cafe,
Struggled free from an overcoat,
Scraped chair legs across the wood floor,
Ugly sounds emerged from his throat.

Long-suffering spouse soon followed,
Dejected, rejected, despaired.
Obliged to sit opposite him,
While he’d never shown if he cared.

The waitress approached and did ask,
Of their morning shopping in town.
Three words she got “He’s been awful.”
Despatched with a deep furrowed frown.

“I came to buy a new sun dress,
All he’s done is whine and complain.
Perhaps you can poison his tea?
Please save me from going insane.”