Thursday, August 27, 2015


In silly celebration of a National Poetry Day in New Zealand...28th Aug, 2015


Okey-dokey, I don’t know whether
argy-bargy between us (or maybe
argle-bargle) will bring on a display of
hari-kari. That’s hardly super-duper
suitable for a namby-pamby,
wishy-washy, dilly-dallying,
shilly-shallying sort of
person who can never make up their
mind – I’m assuming the
indefinite gender here (unrelated to
my indefinite mind).

Indefinite, in itself, is a clear case of
zig-zaggying around a mumbo-jumbo
subject, the kind of subject only
some hoity-toity riff-raff,
some arty-farty ping-pong,
(or whiff-waff)-playing person,
heading helter-skelter,
higgeldy-piggedly into the
nitty-gritty hokey-pokey
hodge-podge, will manage to
make sense of. 

Jeepers-creepers, all you
lardy-dardy raggle-taggle,
you topsy-turvy-thinking
flim-flam fiddle-faddling
harum-scarums, you
fuzzy-wuzzy hobson-jobsons,
you hugger-muggers, you
see-sawing mish-mash of
pell-mells rushing nitty-
grittied into a chock-a-block
heebie-jeebied hocus-pocus
hubble-bubble willy-nilly:

why don’t you get up early?
Just a teensie-weensie, itsy-
bitsy little bit early?

That’d stop the hurly-burly.