Corrie's token brain-box Ken,
is sowing his cultured oats again.
If he ever leaves, (and he never will),
he'll be advertising that little blue pill.
All his life, at it like knives,
it deserves a poem, like Henry's wives.
Sadly, though, this isn't it:
I can't do it - my rhyming's shit.
The latest flame's a little rough, though,
times were hard when she was in Tenko.
A little stooped, from all those shoulder pads,
puts lead in the pencil of some Grandads.
The signs are Ken will be bulging the mattress,
with this -once gorgeous- character actress.
This exotic figure lives on a boat,
no wonder Kenneth is acting the goat.
What a gloriously clichéd trope!
Ken's latest lover - alone on that boat;
the ship canal's finest femme fatale.
Lucky that doesn't rhyme with banal.