Don’t pick a ninny in Piccadilly to taste piccalilli,
For that would be silly.
As silly as picking knitters to nit pick at a picnic with,
Being too busy knitting jumpers to knit their brows having rows,
They’d hamper the picnic.
Pickpockets nick property; pedants pick holes in things,
Holes in your pockets will sock it to a pickpocket—
Who fleeing, empty-handed, wonders if pedants picked the holes in Swiss cheeses.
In Arctic breezes, a pickpocket freezes,
Wondering whether Gruyere is a Swiss cheese or an Australian feminist.
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