Zebra Story Poem by Paul Hartal

Z was a zesty, zany zebra
who did not care about algebra,
neither about abracadabra,
nor the Castle of Alhambra.

Oh algebra, oh algebra,
Oh the Castle of Alhambra.

Now, one day Z zoomed
from Zambia in Africa
to the land of namesia;
and then again he fled
from a large and remote zoo
into this bizarre clerihew.

Z the Zebra
did not care about algebra,
neither about abracadabra,
nor the Castle of Alhambra.

Oh algebra, oh algebra,
Oh the Castle of Alhambra.

As the blazing sun
rose to zenith,
it stood above his head,
it was a hot day of swelter,
no myth,
so Z sought shelter;

and he stood in the shade
of a shed,
and his thoughts were running
dazed, helter-skelter.

By and by he zigzagged
through a wide,
white zebra-crossing
and he pondered
its hidden Zen zing.

Oh algebra, oh algebra,
Oh the Castle of Alhambra.

Still Z remained
a zebra zealot
and refused to train
to be a pilot.

Furthermore he had no interest,
in visiting Zimbabwe, or Angola,
nor sailing on the ocean,
reading the novels of Zola.

Oh algebra, oh algebra,
Oh the Castle of Alhambra.

From his CV it is clear
that Z the Zebra from Zambia
had zero tolerance and no zest
for being entrapped and zapped.

So eventually he settled
in a small town across the sea,
where he became established
and enjoyed his life carefree.

This of course did not happen
through magic and abracadabra,
nor even by pure algebra,
oh, no, not even by pure algebra
in the Castle of Alhambra.

For, his success
came from elsewhere:
in the market place
and the net
Z took his share
on the internet.

With his wit
and clever conducts
he sold sundries
of zebra products.