We met a guy outside Oxford station,
Whose accent, by my guesstimation,
Synched cockney and northern Australian.
From behind his grill he wore a permagrin,
Vending a limited menu therein
(With the odd translation in Mandarin).
When, at length, I enquired about these
Infrequent Hanzi, he replied, ‘If you please,
They reconcile my commercial needs.
If all were translated, people might see
My humble grill as an outlet Chinese;
So to preserve my name as a barbecue,
I determined only to gloss the most select few.
But, because I orientally spell some,
My Chinese clients always feel welcome.’
Unsure what else I might feasibly say,
‘Understandable, have a nice day.’