If you think that a penguin is smelly

Because he has stains on his belly

Then maybe a Gentoo

(Because he is meant to)

Pongs less than a common Adelie?


When those with the straps on their chin

And the leer that is maybe a grind

Go fishing, they shortly

Return, rather portly,

From earlier being most thin.


If eggs you are wanting to coddle

Or lessons in doing The Waddle

I’m sure you could learn

From a kind nesting tern

Or better, a penguin as model.


If a Chinstap or a Gentoo

Found that it was to be sent to

Somewhere balmy

(Swaying, palm-y)

Would it know it was not meant to?


If you lead a good life as a krill

Just swimming along as you will,

Will death then be followed

(As soon as you’re swallowed)

By having to come back… until?


Slug-like seals are fast asleep,

Cautious penguins past them creep,

Well aware the danger real

Of being a nutritious meal.


Dapper penguin, dinner-suited

It is know and undisputed

That your genus finds it normal

Wearing skin that looks so formal.


Who does the cookery

Down at the rookery?

Dad feeds the lad

Spare krill that he had,

Mother will trudge

Fifty miles without grudge

But given the choice

Would her penguin-y voice

Say, “Stick it, my dear,

This is not my career

I am leaving, my son,

I’m becoming a nun

I look quite the part,

I’ve the Habit, to start

Please grant me this wish

For I’m darned SICK OF FISH!”


Antarctica 1992

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