Bill Nelson

1 | 2

A New Zealand Sonnet

You say cack-handed fanny bangers
I wonder if you mean not wrong
sipping warm shandies at the Morris Club

while you sing old-timers
misplace pikelets on the tea table.
You tell me as a sprog you knew

only dunnies and wet blankets.
I’m not sure how that relates to
kumara chips and the Boer War.

A committee convenes
and immediately moves a motion:
cardies and finger stalls it is then.

All this yacking, you say, like bloody pig dogs
your red cheeks chocka with biscuits and pink lamington.





Contents | Next | About this Author