One day at a pie shop,
I met a man selling crisps,
For money he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some lisps.

"Got any lisps?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money."
"No lisps here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.

"We've got some lovely cats,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather have some glatz."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.

The man seemed exceptionally busy,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call dizzy,
Great disdain he noticeably oozed.

Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit green.
Still he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty argentine.

So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the pie shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
"I can help you I believe."

"Crisps, lisps, you shall find.
Cats, glatz, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to George St Market.

So to George St Market I decided to go,
In search of the lisps I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.

There were stalls selling dresses,
Pies in many shades.
There were even stalls selling distresses
People were scattered from many trades

I was greeted by a peculiar lady,
She seemed to be rather green
I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was at all argentine.

Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, "For you, I have some lisps!"
I headed towards her, to the south,
Past some cats and crisps.

"But how did you know?" I asked,
"Do you want them or not?" she did say.
Silently, the lisps she passed.
Then vanished before I could pay.

As I walked away I hard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?

Me