Mr Huxley was nostalgic and confused.
Every Wednesday, he would pine for things
that had never actually gone away.
'Oh, goodness! Oh me, oh my!' he'd sigh,
gazing dejectedly into an empty mug.
'Do you remember the days of instant coffee?'
or, frowning sadly as a child accessed the internet:
'In my day, you could just switch on a radio,
and there would be music - for free, no less!'
Sometimes, he removed his bowler hat,
scratched at his lank black hair,
and wished you could still buy Head & Shoulders.
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