on an ambitious building project
In Shepherd’s Bush did Mister Khan
A new conservatory decree,
Where Alf, the master joiner, ran
The dodgiest business known to man,
For cash, no VAT.
So twice five yards of blighted ground
With scaffolding was fenced around
Where blossomed the odd apple-bearing tree
Beneath the gormless eyes of Sky TV.
But oh, that deep and structural chasm which slanted
Down the central ridge athwart the asphalt cover!
A nasty place! As holey and unwanted
As e’er beneath a leaking sky was haunted
By roofer waiting for his absent brover.
And from the floor, with septic turmoil seething,
As though old Alf in fast thick pants were breathing,
The ruptured water main was forced,
Amid whose violent interrupted burst
New-laid tiles vaulted like rebounding hail;
And sanitary ware rose through the glass
To rain down randomly upon the grass.
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated finally in the hundredth week,
Where was heard the mingled measure
Of the subsidence and leak.
It was a miracle of rare device –
Two years in building, at three times the price.
