I once knew a lady called Gail.
Whose face was made entirely of chalk.
As you can imagine, her features were pale.
And she was unable to laugh, cry or talk.

I told her a joke last December.
The punchline involved a large Yak.
And her reaction, I'll forever remember:
Her face slowly started to crack.

Then tears escaped from her eyes.
Eroding her skin as she mumbled.
I stared with a mixture of surprise,
And sheer horror as her cheekbones both crumbled.

Twelve minutes later, Gail was dead.

I'm still haunted by the image of her face.
So these days I write poems instead.
And leave the funny stuff to Ricky Gervais.

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