Yesterday, my dear flatmate Clare & I received (upon payment of lots and lots of money) the keys to our new place:
This place, this 30, this flat number 2
Is a place, is a 30, that’s waiting for you
Whether you’ve been at Sainsbury’s
(which is over the road)
Or in Henry’s Cellar Bar
(the live music abode)
Whether you need tea, a hug, or a chair
You’ll find that these things are usually there
And available, available, available to you;
In this place, this 30, this flat number 2.
[that was a poem, by the way]
So do pop over: 30/2 Morrison Street, EH3. 0131 2281691.
There’s a lounge and a kitchen and a wooden-board floor!
There’s a toilet-cum-bathroom, with its own locking door!
There’s a room for a David, a room for a Clare
And a room that may come to have instruments there.
If a walk-in pantry might thrill you, come in
And pour yourself bourbon and baileys and gin
And pause for a moment to recognise that
This really is not a half-bad type of flat.
[that was another one]