Rented Accommodation

‘Doctor’, I said

‘I’ve a hole in my head

it’s been there a week

and made me feel weak.’

‘Patient’, he said,

‘As you have a hole in your head

You’re officially dead

but being well bred

I’ll treat you instead.’

He mixed some cement

With red bricks from Kent

And filled in the hole

With his trowel

I now rent a room

With travelling views

To people of taste

Who don’t feel disgraced

To live in my head

They ascend my arm

With the utmost charm

And never complain

When I sneeze

With such a success

I’ll convert all the rest

Until the whole of my face

Has rented out space

And I can afford to live on the moon