New Zealand Poetry
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Purerua, you don't exist
Tho' the map shows a dot, I'm really pissed
We drove way out over gravelly rocks
To private roads with gates and locks
Next time we travel we'll stick to the seal
And just visit places that are actually real.
I wish I was a Maori biker
I'd pick up every innocent hiker
I'd wear black leather with lots of studs
Although my brain would be like spuds
I'd smoke those deadly Maori joints
And hang out at the tourist points
I'd live on take-aways and beer
And wink at girls and belch and leer
Oh how I wish I was a cow
Although I can't imagine how
For all day long I'd just eat grass
And get a very dirty ass
I'd sit & watch the cars go by
And either moo or wink my eye
And one day I'd become a steak
Which you would either fry or bake
Ah yes I'd like to be a cow
But I'll say this, I'm not one now.
Oh how I wish I was a pig
For then I wouldn't think so big
With grunts & squeals
I'd wait for meals
And dance a little jig
Oh how I wish I was a lamb
And then I wouldn't give a damn
For all day long I'd only eat
And prance around on little feet
At passers-by I'd always grin
And one day be a long sheep skin
Oh how I wisht I was a sheep
Tho then I couldn't drive jeep
I'd spend my days on grassy hills
And not take drugs or any pills
I'd lead a very pleasant life
Just growing wool for someone's wife
Kiwi, Kiwi what are you
A bird a fruit, I wish I knew
Sometimes this place seems like a zoo
Oh if I only had a clue
White on top, black on bottom
Love to shout, "Think I got one!"
Catch a magpie, never mate!
You'll always get there a little late
I wish I was a Moa bird
I'd prob'ly shit a massive turd
I'd no doubt stand 'bout ten feet tall
And have a really raucous call
I'd eat a ton of icky bugs
And make a lot of feather rugs
I'd also be a tasty treat
Of endless nummy moa meat
Green & fuzzy round every turn,
That's the New Zealand giant fern
Like some prehistoric jungle plant
It's blackend fronds will make men pant
Beware the branches as you pass
For they'll reach out & grab your ass
Blub, blub the boiling mud
Or is it just a lot of crud
Smells just like a rotten egg
To see it costs an arm and a leg
Always kept behind a wall
You've seen one pool, you've seen 'em all
I've seen a lot of thermal steam
I've stuck my toes in boiling streams
I've glimpsed my share of boiling mud
And seen the cows just chewing cud
I've ridden along highways of gravel
It's sure a shitty way to travel
If I could do it all again,
I'd fly to Fiji and back again
I've seen the East Coast
I've seen the West
I can't decide
Which one is best
I've fed the deer
I've petted the sheep
Nothing you do here
Is ever cheap
It costs too much to have a beer
Just enjoy the view and thank God you're here
They say El Nino is big this year
Bad for cycling, this I fear,
Blows all day and all night
Shakes the tent, oh what a fright
Will it stop? We'll only know
If then the wind will cease to blow
Henry is our kind of car
With no troubles he drives so far
Shift a gear, maybe two
He's up the hill just like he flew
Bike on top, us inside
No complaints, a perfect ride!
We've played a lot of cards (just gin)
But both of us are geared to win
It gets real vicious in our tent
We've both got real aggression to vent
But when it's over, we still stay lovers
It's plenty warmer cuddling 'neath the covers
Kiwis love their sheep and horses
Blowing winds, and green golf courses
In their cars they love to pass
They'll tailgate right up your ass
A friendly lot in pub or camp
And glad to tell you where to tramp
Corrugated steel, what appeal!
That's what America needs, for real -
These New Zealand Victorian homes
Need to encroach on other zones
Textures roofs, where rain falls loud
Makes homeowners feel so proud!
Lamb again, with salt and pepper
A meal to save the starving leper
Potatoes too, with tons of butter
Enough to make our mothers shudder
When we've eaten that we'll dine again
Gain five pounds more, or maybe ten.
For miles we drive in search of camp
Sometimes it's dry, sometimes it's damp
We've slept along the oceanside
At sites that are narrow and those that are wide
The camps here all have toilet and kitchen
There really ain't much room for bitchin'
Still we drive on for the prefect spot
And hope that it'll be sunny and hot!
Our plans they change from day to day
By bike? By car? It's hard to say
We'd really like to island-hop
But the price of that could make us stop,
If we could choose we'd fly away
To a place where sun shines night and day,
Yet as it is we'll still have fun
Travelling, windsurfing, on the run!
Up alongside a polluted brook
With a noisy highway overlook
Aluminum plant across the way
Grinding metal night and day
Raucus kids at summer camp,
Are sure to keep your spirits damp
But if that's not enough to bring on gloom,
You're right beside the ladies room
When you finally escape you're sure to say
Motor camping's not the the way
Saw two magpies makin' love
Legs up wavin' in the air
It was quite a sight to see
That lovey-dovey birdie pair
I always knew they did it
After all they do lay eggs
I simply never realized that
They had to spread thier legs!
Once again the pouring rain
It really is a fucking pain
We'd like to see a lovely sight
And if the clouds lift we just might
But for the most part it's a drag
A lot like being on the rag
Jim just crawled into a cave
It seemed the thing to do
He disappeared theere way inside
And he was lost from view
He came out on the other end
For he was safe and sound
It's better to come up above
Than stay buried underground
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