Mugga Mugga Poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

Candidly, I do not hug a
Wish to go to Mugga Mugga;
To the Mugga Mugga Mountain by Yassberra's desert place,
Where they're planning - more's the pity
To erect Australia's city,
To upraise a drouthy city - monument to our disgrace.
'Tis proposed that we shall lug a
Myriad pipes to Mugga Mugga -
Water-pipes to get the wetness to the city's thirsty crowd
Water to ablute and bathe in?
Nay! The language will be scathin'
When the Mugga mugs discover: 'NOTICE - BATHING NOT ALLOWED.'
Wearily, with jar or jug, a
Citizen at Mugga Mugga
Will await his turn for water - wait with bucket, billy-can,
Kerosene-tin - any vessel
That the Cotter's muddy mess'll
Safely keep in - 0, the weepin' of the Mugga Mugga man!
I can see a future Mugg
Resident arise and tug a
Show'r-bath chain without result, then curse aloud and thirst for blood
Curse the crawling Cotter trickle.
For he will be in a pickle
When the Cotter isn't cotting and Molongolo's mostly mud.
I've a yearn, within, to plug a
Jaw whenever Mugga Mugga
Mountain's mentioned in my hearing, for it makes me very sore.
When I realise Dalgety
Was thrown over for the petty
Claims of parish politicians I'm inclined to raze for gore.

I'd rejoice if someone dug a
Deep, wide grave at Mugga Mugga
And interred all Canberranters, minus service, sob or stone
All nefarious State-Frighters!
Yassinine old nation-blighters!
Nay; I'd lug a Mugga-fighter there and plant him on my own!