An uptight old Chieftain huffs and puffs over psycho-semantics
The Bane of Chief Two-Tents
Said an old Injun' Chief quite discretely:
“I need you, good doctor, to treat me.
I'm crazed and confused; my tribe is bemused
‘Cause I think I’m a wigwam or teepee.”
As the shrink had finished prescribing relief
He submitted professional fees to the Chief.
The Chief went berserk; "why so much for no work!
When my time on your couch was so brief?"
The dignified Doc simply winked when he said:
“Tis not for the time, but for talent instead.
Your problem, you see, came quickly to me,
Whether wigwam or teepee, it's all in your head.
“Thus in my defense, my prognosis makes sense…
You’re a pot-puffin' skinflint who's merely ‘two tents!’